


Wild

by P3ac3fulFor3st



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, neighborhood AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P3ac3fulFor3st/pseuds/P3ac3fulFor3st
Summary: What if Xiaolin Showdown was just a game of make-believe? What if the monks and villains were all actually children living in the same neighborhood? Well, that is Jack Spicer's reality. And the new kid across the street has his undivided attention.





	1. New Kid on the Block

**Author's Note:**

> I missed you guys so much! I had a really good break. I'm fully settled into my new job as a middle school art teacher and my new apartment. Honestly, I'm so glad to be writing again :D
> 
> This story was born out of a burning desire for a high school AU, which there is a definite lack of in this fandom. That got me thinking that maybe... Xiaolin Showdown was imagined by children. This story is the result of it. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy Wild.

Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood in a world not unlike our own, was a long street with a cul-de-sac at the end. The houses were modest, separated by tall wooden fences. Five of them were occupied, leaving one of them, the white one with navy shutters and wildly overgrown flowerbeds, empty. It’d been empty for years. 

Or at least, that’s what the other kids had told Jack Spicer. 

Jack and his family moved to the neighborhood of couple years ago. He got along fine with the other four kids living on the same street but sometimes… It was hard to feel included. Especially looking the way he did. 

Jack was albino, white as winter snow and just as delicate. His hair, like his skin, was also colorless. But the most shocking thing about Jack were his eyes. Ruby red. And in lieu of his rather vampiric appearance, he tended to behave like one, shying away from the light, staying up late and sleeping in. 

Maybe if he went out more, he’d get along better with the others. But getting along with Omi, Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Instead, he was far more focused on the moving truck.

The moving truck parked outside the last empty house on the street. 

Jack chewed on his thumbnail, staring out the bedroom window. His open notebook and pencil laid forgotten on the desk before him. He’d been drawing, sketches of large mechas littering the page and properly labeled with the numbers 01 through 05. He didn’t care what the others said; robots were cool. 

But his favorite TV show was driven clean from his mind; a car pulled up beside the moving truck. Slowly, Jack retrieved the pair of binoculars from a desk drawer, raising them to his eyes so he could get a better look. The driver, who climbed out and smiled at the house, was a young woman of Asian descent. She ran a hand through dark bobbed hair, turning to say something to whoever else was in the car.

The passenger seat door opened. Jack gaped. He couldn’t help himself. A teenager climbed out, broad-shouldered with waist-length black hair. Jack had never seen a guy with hair that long before. It was absolutely mesmerizing. The teen reached back into the car, tossing a duffle bag over his shoulder.

“What’re you dong?”

Jack yelped, jumping and dropping the binoculars. Wuya, his older sister, leaned against the desk, smirking.

“Spying on the new neighbors? That’s super creepy, even for you.”

“I-I was just curious!” Jack spluttered, going red as she plucked the binoculars out of his hands. “Give those back!”

Something caught Wuya’s eye beyond the window and she did a double-take.

“No fucking way…” 

Ignoring her brother’s protests, she learned against the desk, peering through the binoculars. Her eyes widened.

“That’s Chase Young! Holy shit!”

“W-wait, that’s Chase Young? The guy you have a big-ass crush on?”

Wuya smacked the back of Jack’s head as he snickered. 

“He goes to my school, ding-bat. Soon your school.”

“He attends Weld-Smith?”

Weld-Smith was an extremely prestigious private high school not too far from the neighborhood. Anyone could get in by passing the entrance exam but it was pretty obvious the school catered to international students, it’s ESL program being one of the best in the country. 

Jack was due to start in the Fall, having passed the entrance exam with flying colors. Wuya would be a Junior. And apparently, so would Chase Young.

The second Wuya left his room, Jack leaned across the desk again, refocusing his binoculars on the mysterious Chase Young. The teen plopped his duffle bag down on the curb, pulling his hair up into a messy ponytail. He was nodding as the young woman (probably his mother) talked to him. Jack noted he had really pretty eyes. Some odd shade of light brown that seemed nearly golden in the early afternoon sun.

Those eyes suddenly looked directly at him, seeing him through the binocular lenses. Jack squeaked, tumbling sideways off the desk and clutching the binoculars to his chest, heart galloping and eyes wide at being caught. He buried his burning face in his hands with a groan. 

What a wonderful first impression. Fantastic.

-oOo-

Chase Young dropped his duffle bag on the floor of his new room. It was in the back corner of the house and had two big windows perpendicular to each other, an accordion door closet, and cream carpets. The room was currently very empty; all his furniture was in the moving van. 

Any other teenager would’ve started mentally decided where everything was going to do. But Chase was far too tired- both mentally and physically- at that point, sitting down in the center of the bare room. A soft knock on his doorframe had him turning his head. His mother, Li Hua Young, was standing there, smiling. 

“They’re going to start unloading the truck soon, if you want to help.” 

Help. Right.

“Yeah, sure. Are there any places to eat close by?”

“I guess it is rather late,” Li Hua mused, checking her watch. “We didn’t really get to stop for lunch… How about this: I’ll go out and get food, and you start helping unload the truck. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

There was a pause where Li Hua looked at Chase, brow furrowed. Chase stared at the carpet. He tried to will his mother out of the room, to try to make her sense he needed to be left alone. 

“I know this past week had been hard on you, Chase.”

No such luck.

“Mom, please, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Chase sighed, pulling his duffle bag over to himself and unzipping it, attempting to distract himself. 

“… Alright. I’ll be back soon.”

Li Hua left. Chase leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the floor and groaning, long black hair creating a curling curtain around him. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to avoid talking about things with her but he’d play the game as long as he needed to. 

He sat up, rifling through his duffle bag. He pulled out a dog-eared paperback of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. He opened up to where his bookmark was and started to read, falling right back into the story he’d read at least a dozen times prior. 

The moving truck could wait 10 minutes.

-oOo-

June was pleasantly warm but dry. The rest of the kids on the street woke when the sun came roaring through their windows at dawn, prompting them out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Jack, however, had these wonderful things called black-out curtains.

He fell into his summer routine with delightful ease, staying up as late as he pleased. In the afternoon, he typically went out to belatedly play with the others until sundown. And these hours were decently fun. But his true joy was found at night. These hours were filled with gaming, sketching, anime, and tinkering around with the box of old car parts he’d found in the garage. He loved the night. The night was quiet, peaceful, free from distractions. Sometimes he stayed up all night, crashing as the sun rose. 

This was one of those nights.

Jack logged out of his Minecraft server, closing down the laptop. It’d been a gift from his parents for getting into Weld-Smith and the moment he’d booted it up, he’d downloaded some choice games he’d envied for a while. In all honesty, his fingers were itching to take it apart; his head spun with ideas of what he could make with so many parts. But seeing as he’d actually need the laptop for school… He’d have to at least wait until graduation.

He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock. It was 5 AM. He leaned on his arms on the desk, gazing out of the window. The street was quiet, the moon a sliver of silver against the dark sky. Thank goodness it was summer.

Movement at the Young residence caught his eye. He blinked. A window on the side of the house had opened, a tall figure slinking out. Jack scrambled for his binoculars. Sure enough, it was Chase Young. What the hell was he doing?

Jack kneeled on the floor behind his desk, ready to duck if seen, staring through the binoculars. He watched as Chase carefully closed the window behind him. Tying up his hair as he went, he strode down the street. Jack stood quickly, leaning over his desk as far as he could go, watching Chase until his disappeared around the corner. 

That was weird. Jack lowered his binoculars slowly, frowning. Why would Chase Young be sneaking out of the house at 5 AM? He thought all teenagers slept until at least 10 if Wuya’s sleeping habits held any truth to them at all.

Chase was different. Like Jack. But also like… Really cool. Unlike Jack.

He had to be his friend. 

-oOo-

“Did you guys see the new kid?”

“You mean the one with the super long hair? Yeah, I saw him.”

Raimundo was bouncing a soccer ball between his knees, eyes following its movements. Kimiko was perched on the curb close by, tapping away at her iPod Touch, Omi watching her play Goo Zombies 3 over her shoulder. Clay lay sprawled out in the grass of Raimundo’s front yard, searching for shapes in the few clouds above him.

“Daddy would never let me grow my hair out that long.”

“That’s because your daddy is ‘a good Texas gentleman’.” Kimiko imitated the drawl Clay and his father shared. Raimundo barked out a laugh, dropping the ball to let it balance on his toe. Clay snorted.

“Can’t fight you on that…”

“I think it is most wonderful,” Omi chipped in. “It is good to have another Chinese family close by.”

“Guan doesn’t count?” Kimiko asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He lives two streets away!” Omi whined. “Too far to walk!”

“Dude, we keep telling you, you need a bike.” 

“My scooter is far superior to any bike.”

He meant the Razor kick scooter laying on the curb next to him. It was silver with royal blue handles made of some soft material. After a bit of wheedling, he’d gotten Clay to paint blue waves on the board. Omi loved water in all its forms and was definitely the best swimmer in the neighborhood. His scooter deserved waves. He would never trade it out for a bike. 

“I don’t think he’s gonna play with you, Omi,” Kimiko sighed, tucking her iPod away in her pocket. “High schoolers are weird.” 

Omi frowned.

“Jack plays with us,” he pointed out, “and he is almost in high school.”

“Jack doesn’t count, partner.”

“Jack counts when he has juicy gossip for you.” 

Clay tilted his head back to see Jack had finally arrived. He was wearing distressed black skinny jeans and a black tank top, stark in contrast against his skin. Clay, wearing a pale blue t-shirt with khaki shorts, looked Jack up and down. Raimundo laughed.

“Get lost on your way to a goth convention?” He asked, plucking his own orange and white striped tank top away from his sweaty skin. His own jeans were faded, blue and baggy. He couldn’t fathom skinny jeans. Not in June. Not at any time.

Jack rolled his eyes.

“That’s original. Think of that one yourself?”

“Boys, cut it out,” Kimiko huffed, brushing off her jean shorts and standing with a smile.

Her graphic tee was almost long enough to cover said shorts. Jack personally found this to be a crime against humanity. However, since his own fashion was often criticized, he tended to keep his own mouth shut on other people’s choices.

“Jack, what do you know about the new boy?”

Omi, of course, went straight for the jugular with little preamble. This was his way and Jack appreciated him for it. Omi was his favorite of the bunch, honest and always well-meaning, even towards Jack. Today he was clad in jean shorts and a white polo. 

Jack grinned. 

“Tall, dark, and Chinese is Chase Young,” he shared. “He’s in the same year as Wuya at Weld-Smith.” 

“He’s in your sister’s year?” Raimundo made a noise of absolute disgust. “Poor guy.” 

“Right?” Jack laughed. “I don’t know much else… It looks like it’s just him and his mom. Buuut if he goes to Weld-Smith, maybe he can give us some pointers.”

“You mean give you some pointers,” Clay drawled with a grin. “We still have another year.”

“Yeah, so? You have a year, Rai and Kimi have two years- OW!”

Jack rubbed his bicep where Kimiko nailed him with a punch, wincing. 

“Don’t call me Kimi!”

“Damn, girl, ow! You know I bruise easily!” 

“Good!”

“My bad, wow… Rai and Kimiko have two years… Omi still has like… What? Three years?”

“I am going into 6th grade,” Omi confirmed. “You are correct. But with my brains, I should skip most of junior high.”

Omi was too busy inflating his own already engorged ego to notice the eye-rolls. Confidence would only get you so far and Jack knew it to be a fact.

Jack was smart. What he lacked in social skills, he made up for in brains. His third grade teacher used the term “brilliant”. Math came so naturally to him, using a calculator for equations and complex problem solving only got in the way. Again and again, he was told by his teachers he could be an architect, an engineer, a rocket scientist… But Jack had his eyes set on something else. 

Jack loved robots. Robots, weapons, and what his teachers called ‘superhuman mechanics’. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, other kids found his fascinations… Strange.

It caused friction. And often. 

“Well, you guys know what we’ve got to do, right?” 

They all look to Raimundo, who spun the soccer ball on his finger.

“Get Chase to hang out with us!”

“And just how do you suggest we do that, partner?” Clay asked. “We know nothing about him.”

“Easy,” Raimundo said with a shrug. He tossed the ball to Jack, who caught it on reflex. “We knock on the door.”

He started across the street. His friends all cried out in pleas and head shakes, but he merely grinned over his shoulder, giving Kimiko a thumbs-up. She groaned.

“What an idiot…”

Raimundo rapped sharply on the front door of the Young residence. The others made their way quickly across the street but stopped short, choosing to stand safely on the sidewalk instead of crossing the lawn. Omi watched curiously. Clay swallowed.

Jack wanted to spontaneously combust. 

The door opened. Chase Young was standing there. He was in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair in a ponytail. In his hand was a bowl, probably cereal, a spoon sticking out of his mouth. He removed it. 

“Can I help you?”

Jack nearly melted onto the pavement; his voice was just as handsome as he was. Smooth but with a bite, like the sip of Fireball whiskey he’d nipped from the bottle in his parents’ liquor cabinet. 

Raimundo smiled.

“I’m Raimundo. We were wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out or something.”

“I do not… ‘Hang out’. At least, not with pre-schoolers.”

Kimiko seethed but Jack couldn’t hold back a snort, biting his lip to keep from grinning. Chase’s gaze shifted beyond Raimundo to where the rest of them were huddled together on the sidewalk, finding Jack. It was like being x-rayed. Chase’s eyes scanned him from head to toe, probably because of his strange appearance. Eventually, he looked back to Raimundo, a slow, lazy grin gracing his lips.

“Why don’t you take the Boxcar Children back to the playground?”

And with that, the door was closed again. Right in Raimundo’s incredulous face.

Jack couldn’t help it. He started cackling so hard he struggled to catch his breath.

“Really, Jack?” Kimiko deadpanned. “Really?”

“S-sorry, but…” Jack gasped, clutching his middle as Raimundo stalked back to the group, grumbling. “Your faces! Oh, jeez! H-he’s hilarious!”

-oOo-

Jack stumbled into the kitchen around noon to find Wuya perched on the counter. She was painting her toenails, her cellphone wedged between her shoulder and cheek.

“No, I’m serious, the moving truck got here last week!” She paused to listen to her friend babble on the other side of the line. She rolled her eyes. “Absolutely, I’d know Chase Young anywhere. Do you know any other Chinese men with hair like that?”

Jack yawned, opening the fridge. So he wasn’t the only one who had an unhealthy obsession with that dark mane. Good to know. He took a sip straight from the carton of fruit punch, earning a kick to the ribs from Wuya.

“Get a cup, you animal!”

“Bite me,” Jack muttered, putting the fruit punch away and getting out the milk. “Don’t you have work today?”

“Not until 4. But, no, that’s what I’m saying!” Wuya hissed into the phone. “This could be my chance!” 

Jack poured himself a bowl of Crunch Berries, batting his sister’s legs aside to get a spoon. She scooted aside, smacking his head with a rolled up take-away menu.

“Move your tyrannosaurus ass!”

“Fuck off!” 

This was a typical day in the Spicer household. Parents? At work and out of commission. House? Somehow spotless. Siblings? At each other’s throats. 

Not that they’d ever actually hurt each other. Wuya taught Jack everything, from how to brush his teeth to how to tie his shoes. Having two parents married more to their work than each other did that. They loved each other, really. But they were still two teenagers living under the same roof. 

Jack hopped out the front door, tugging on his black and white Vans. The sun was blazing in the sky and he squinted as he made his way around to the garage. Pulling his bike out, he ran with it to the end of the driveway, swinging his leg over the seat and kicking off. 

There were only a handful of places he knew the others could be.

-oOo-

The month carried on much like this: Jack woke up at noon, ate something, and joined his friends. If it was Friday, he met them at 7/11. If it was Wednesday, he didn’t meet them at all; Clay had youth group and Omi had Kung Fu classes. In the evening, Jack sat down to have dinner with Wuya. If it was a weekend, Kevin and Jillian Spicer were also there.

Jack’s parents were ghosts that would come and go, occasionally bearing gifts or take-out boxes. Kevin sold cars, Jillian sold real-estate. Every once in a while, they’d take a wildly luxurious trip somewhere. But most of the time, Jack and Wuya were on their own. And they preferred it that way.

Jack continued staying up late, occupying himself as he waited. Sure enough, at 5 AM on the dot, Chase would crawl out of his window and head down the street. Some nights, Jack wouldn’t make it. He’d fall asleep at his desk and slump off to bed, telling himself he didn’t care if he missed a night.

Eventually, though, watching wasn’t enough. Jack was dying of curiosity, his need to know consuming him completely. He wasn’t being creepy, he told himself as he crawled out his own window at 4:45. This totally wasn’t creepy.

Was it?  
Okay, he finally conceded as he hid behind the bush on the corner of the street. It was a bit creepy. 

He waited. Chase walked by. Jack watched him go from the safe confines of branches and leaves. He watched him go through the playground close by and duck under a branch, disappearing beyond the line of trees. Jack scrambled out of the bush to follow. He knew exactly where Chase was going.

Chase was by the lake. The lake wasn’t all that big. But it was too big and deep to be considered a pond, and it was decent for swimming in the dead of summer. Jack himself never swam in the lake. But he knew the other kids made good use of it. 

Jack stayed a fair distance away behind the tree of a rather large oak tree. What was Chase doing?

He was… Barely moving. His foot slid along the ground, tracing a circle with his tow. His arms moved in arcs. Jack stared, mesmerized by the methodical movements. It was like a dance of sorts, a very slow dance without a partner and without music. 

It was utterly enchanting. Jack couldn’t help but feel like he’d stumbled upon something incredibly private so he took great care to stay out of sight. Eventually, he backed away quietly, leaving Chase to his early morning ritual.

-oOo-

“Maybe if Chase Young sees how cool the Shen Gong Wu are… He’ll play with us!”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“No, really!” Omi insisted, gesturing at the toy sword in Kimiko’s hand. It was painted yellow with golden swirls on the “blade”, a red cord tied around the handle. They called it the Sword of the Storm. When swung, it created a great gust of wind. “If he held it, he might see how fun it could be!”

“You, uh… You want me to hand Chase the Sword of the Storm?”

“Uh-huh! And tell him you want to Showdown him for it.”

“That’s never going to work, chrome-dome,” Raimundo huffed. “We’ll be down an entire Shen Gong Wu. And I worked my butt off making that!”

This was their game. Xiaolin Showdown started off as a way to decide who got a particularly cool rock they found by the lake. Then it grew into competitive games for “magical” items of their own invention and these items, these Shen Gong Wu, gave them tactical advantages in the next game. 

It was amazing what you could come up with when your summer world was confined to however far your bike could carry you.

“Rai’s right, partner,” Clay agreed. “Chase might not give it back.” 

“No, I do not think Chase Young would do that. Just because he’s a teenager does not mean he’s a smelly egg.”

“That’s a rotten egg,” Kimiko corrected with a grin, spinning the Sword of the Storm in-between her fingers. 

“Same difference! Either way, it worked on Jack!”

“That’s because Jack’s special.”

“Screw you, Rai,” Jack groused, sitting up from where he was laying in the grass. On his forehead were a pair of goggles he’d fashioned himself just for the game, yellow with black swirls on them. 

Even though he was a bit old for make-believe, Jack played along because… Well… He didn’t have any other friends. When they offered him the chance to be a villain, he took the role with enthusiasm. He knew the others still played because they’d all grown up together, practically since they were in diapers. It meant a lot to Omi, the youngest. So they continued to play.

Admittedly, when they all got along, it was actually a lot of fun.

“Do I have to?” Kimiko whined. She was standing in front of Chase’s front door, holding the Sword of the Storm, looking like she’d rather swallow a live lobster than do what she was about to do.

“Please, Kimiko,” Omi wheedled. “Just this once!”

Kimiko swallowed, knocking on the door resolutely. 

When Chase opened the door, he scowled deeply. Kimiko handed him the Sword of the Storm as he opened his mouth, likely to tell her to buzz off. He stared at the toy in his hand. She sighed.   
“It’s a sword.”

“It’s a… Stick.”

“It creates great gusts of wind! A most valuable weapon in the hands of a true warrior!” Omi pipped up from behind Kimiko. Chase huffed.

“I am not interested in your little magical toys,” he grumbled. “There’s five of you. Play with each other.” 

Thrusting the Sword back into Kimiko’s hands, he slammed the doors in their faces. Jack snorted.

“You’re not going to get him to Showdown with you, Omi,” he said, shaking his head. “That man is an island.”


	2. The Loneliness of Jack Spicer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Welcome back!  
Thanks for all the warm reception on this story! I greatly appreciate each and every comment y'all have shared.  
Enjoy chapter 2!

It was a routine Friday afternoon, the group sitting around one of the green vinyl tables at the 7/11. The soft hum of the air conditioner and icy cold Slurpees helped combat the heat beating down on the pavement outside. Jack sipped his Slurpee (white cherry and Coke), flipping through the graphic novel he got at the library. The others talked about some cartoon he knew nothing about. 

The bell tinkled as the door opened. Chase entered, sweeping through in sweats and a t-shirt. An Avengers t-shirt. Jack felt a swoop of excitement, sitting up a little straighter. He glanced down at his own Iron Man tank top. Chase was a Marvel fan? (He wasn’t sure why this surprised him; everyone was a Marvel fan.) 

He watched as Chase crossed over to one of the fridges, retrieving a Coke. Then he plucked a protein bar of some sorts off a rack, paying for both plus a banana at the register. His eyes drifted over, pausing when he saw their little group. 

“Great,” he sighed. He took his bag and left quickly. Jack scrambled up, following him out of the 7/11.

“H-hey, Chase, wait!”

Chase turned back, glaring.

“Ugh, what?”

“U-um…” Jack floundered for something to say. “Nice shirt. It’s cool.”

“Thanks,” Chase ground out. “Is that all?”

“Well, uh… The Fourth of July is coming up. The whole street usually celebrates together so… I, uh… It’ll be awesome to see you there.”

Chase pinched the bridge of his nose as Jack shifted uncomfortably.

“Look, kid-!”

“Jack. Jack Spicer.”

“Look, Jack Spicer, I-… Wait a minute. Spicer?” 

“Yeeeaaah…?” Jack said slowly, cringing back, wondering if this was going where he thought it was. Damn his sister and her reputation. 

“Is Wuya Spicer your sister?”

“Unfortunately…”

There was a pause. Chase snorted, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“You have my pity.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else.”

Chase sighed.

“Look, Spicer, I don’t like people. Do me a favor and leave me alone.”

“Oh, um…” There was that sinking feeling in Jack’s stomach again. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll do that. Can’t make promises for those idiots, though.”

He jerked his head back towards the doors to the 7/11 where he knew the others were. Chase nodded. Then, without so much as a good-bye, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Jack deflated. He slumped back inside to rejoin the others, only partially listening to their conversation as he sipped forlornly on his half-melted Slurpee. So much for making a new friend.

-oOo-

Jack pulled on his swim trunks and a tank top. It was the peak of summer, the Fourth of July, and the all-encompassing excitement was so infectious, he was unable to keep the grin off his face.

He barely stepped out into the street, barefoot with a SuperSoaker in hand, when Clay hosed him down with a water gun of his own. He couldn’t really bring himself to be mad. It was the one time of year he could count on getting along perfectly fine with the others. He only laughed and fired back, chasing Clay and Raimundo across the lawn and into the street, joining the insane fray. 

This day was the most widely anticipated event among the neighborhood kids. There was always food at the cul-de-sac, lawn chairs set out, music playing. A couple of the adults would go set off fireworks by the lake, far enough for safety but close enough for a spectacular show of light and color. 

This epic water gun war was tradition. They played solidly, only stopping for food and fireworks. This year, however, Jack was so obviously distracted that Kimiko called him out on it.

“Jack!” She hollered from across the street. She was already wet and scraped up, covered in grass from running wild from lawn to lawn. “Stop making goo-goo eyes at Chase and help me out!”

“I am NOT making goo-goo eyes!” Jack yelled back, pumping his SuperSoaker a few times before firing at Omi, bright red at being called out.

It was true; he had been looking at Chase. Luckily for him, the teenager didn’t hear Kimiko’s accusation since he was on the opposite side of the cul-de-sac.

Chase seethed. Thanks to his mother, he was locked out of the house for the evening. He didn’t want to be here. Yet here he was, sitting on the curb with a hot dog and trying to avoid all social interaction. 

“Chase? What’re you doing here?”

Chase’s head snapped up at the familiar voice. Standing in front of him wearing shorts and a t-shirt was a muscular and bald Chinese teenager, lips curled into a grin. Chase huffed in disbelief. 

“Guan? You live around here?”

“Yeah, a couple of streets down,” Guan said, taking a seat next to Chase on the curb. “Did you just move here or something?”

“Last week,” Chase sighed. “The divorce went through.”

“I’m sorry, man. I know that’s rough.”

For the first time since moving, Chase felt himself begin to relax; it was nice to see a familiar face.

Guan and Chase were good friends, best friends really. All the same, they were both very different. Guan was kind, good-natured most of the time. Sometimes he got a bit brash but he typically meant well. Chase, on the other hand, was cynical and easily annoyed. When they both joined the kung fu club in the same year, Guan had refused to give up on Chase, determined to be his friend. He knew, even at first glance, that Chase was guarded.

That still hadn’t changed.

It wasn’t long before they were inevitably joined by a third person.

“H-hey, guys…” 

It was Jack. He was practically drenched, colorless hair plastered to his forehead, holding a chili-cheese dog and a still dripping can of Dr. Pepper. His SuperSoaker hung from his shoulder on what looked like a modified guitar strap. 

“Can I sit here?”

Chase opened his mouth to tell him to go away but unfortunately Guan beat him to it.

“I don’t see why not,” he said with a smile. Jack grinned widely, sitting cross-legged on the pavement in front of them.

“I would’ve sat with the others but, um…” He faltered for a moment, eyes flickering to where the others had found a table. “There were only four seats so I said I’d go somewhere else.”

Something uncomfortable settled low in Chase’s stomach.

“That happens,” Guan agreed with a nod. “You must be Jack.”

“How do you know that?” Jack asked curiously. He cracked open his Dr. Pepper and took a very fizzy sip. The icy cold left a chilled trail down inside his chest.

“I babysit Omi,” Guan chuckled. “He calls you Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius.”

“Yeeeaaah, that’s my role. I’m the bad guy. We compete for Shen Gong Wu. They win a lot since, y’know… Good has to win,” he explained, pausing to take a bite of his hot dog. “But like… Sometimes I win. That’s how I got the Monkey Staff.”

“I… Am lost,” Chase said, brow furrowing. “Shen Gong Wu?” 

He directed this question at Guan but to his slight annoyance, Jack piped up.

“Oh, it’s this game called Xiaolin Showdown that Omi invented. Shen Gong Wu are items that have special abilities. For example, that sword Kimiko tried to give you was the Sword of the Storm. It can create high winds. If you have it, it gives you an advantage during the next game.”

“That next game?”

“Yeah, we compete against each other for new Shen Gong Wu.”

“That you make yourself.” 

“Well… Yeah. Keeps the game going. I’m the only villain so far but like… Omi’s always looking for new people to play, which is why…”

“Why he’s been insistent that I play,” Chase finished for him with an eye-roll. He took a deep sip of Sprite as Guan laughed.

“They’ve been on me to play for years. I only participate maybe… Once a summer? I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Just enough to satisfy them for a while.”

“Well, if Spicer’s an Evil Boy Genius,” Chase couldn’t help but ask, “then what are you?”

Guan grinned. 

“Master Monk Guan. I graduated as a Xiaolin Dragon and own my own temple where I train pupils in kung fu.”

“Good grief,” Chase huffed. “Quite the title.”

“And I am Jack Spicer,” Jack offered, chest puffed out. “Evil Boy Genius! My mission: utilize my army of robots to achieve world conquest!” 

Chase snorted into his Sprite as Guan laughed. Jack smiled, finishing off his hot dog.

“Well, anyways, that’s the backstory the others gave me. I wanted to be the fifth Xiaolin Dragon of Metal but they really needed a bad guy.”

There was that sinking feeling again, low in Chase’s stomach. He had to wonder if the other kids were actually Jack’s friends… Or if they just tolerated him.

Guan must’ve thought the same thing. He cleared his throat.

“So, Jack. Omi tells me you like robots.”

Jack lit up.

“I love robots! I wanna get my bachelors in mechanical engineering and a masters in robotics. I’ve already made plans for a mecha suit- kinda like a gundam but also kinda Iron Man inspired-!”

“Hello, there.”

The three of them looked up, Jack’s gushing cut off by the arrival of his older sister. Wuya was standing there, wearing cut-off jean shorts and holding a Sunkist. She sat by Jack before any of them could say a word. 

“Nice to see you, Wuya.”

“Oh, bite me, Guan,” she snipped. “I’m only here to talk to Chase.”

Chase made a face that had Jack biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

“This may come as a shock to you, Wuya,” Chase said, voice drier than a desert. “But I really don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed with a wave of her hand. “Who else are you gonna talk to? Guan’s a goody-two-shoes and Jack’s an annoying-!”

“I am not annoying!” Jack interrupted shrilly, blush rising in his cheeks.

“Sure, Jack,” Wuya goaded. “You and your shitty little robots aren’t annoying.”

Jack huffed. He turned back to Guan and Chase, set and determined. 

“As I was saying, I wanna make a suit that’ll be smaller than a gundam but-!”

Wuya cut him off with a groan.

“Look, dweeb, mom and dad have said it, I’ve said it, nobody cares. Go play with the other kids and let the adults talk.”

Before Guan or Chase could say anything, Jack was standing, eyes stinging. He took his paper plate and Dr. Pepper to the nearest trash can and tossed them before making is way back home. 

The Fourth of July was stupid anyway. He didn’t care.

-oOo-

Chase couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Jack was pushed aside at the Fourth of July bothered him far more than it should’ve. Guilt coiled like a snake low in his gut as he thought of his own few interactions with the kid. He hadn’t exactly been all that nice.

Despite being impatient, irritable, and overall grouchy, Chase considered himself at least a decent person. He’d never really been an asshole before. But at this point? As far as Jack Spicer was concerned? He certainly felt like one.

Yelling and laughing outside his window made him crack open his eyes with a scowl. He glanced at his clock. 1:36 PM. A groan escaped him as he sat up, accidentally dislodging the tiny black kitten (who he’d characteristically named Yang) from his chest. He slid down his chest with a tumble before blearily stumbling away and joining Yin, the white kitten, on Chase’s pillow. 

Chase’s afternoon nap was typically after lunch until roughly 2. Unfortunately, ever since moving to the neighborhood, he’d been woken prematurely but that ridiculous game those kids were always playing.

He slid out of bed, yawning and running a hand through his messy hair. Making his way to the kitchen, he was unconcerned about running into his mother; she worked as a third grade teacher but had opted to help teach summer school. Divorces were expensive. They needed the income. 

Chase mused over this a he got a can of Sprite out of the fridge. He knew he really ought to get a part-time job to help out. But whenever he brought it up, his mother vehemently refused. She wanted him to focus on his grades so he could create a good future for himself. 

He wandered to the living room, settling on the couch. The window behind it was cracked open, allowing a breeze and dialogue from the game to float through. 

“Maybe if he worked out once in a while he wouldn’t look like a scrawny old lady!”

“I do not!”

“That Jack is slower than a three-legged cow in quicksand!”

At the mention of Jack’s name, Chase swiveled his head around to see what was going on. Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo were sitting on the sidewalk, watching Omi and Jack jump from platform to make-shift platform. Putting two and two together, Chase assumed this was a Xiaolin Showdown. 

“No, I’m not!”

Omi had what looked like a decorated can of silly string. He shot it at Jack, who dodged by jumping to another platform. He was holding a rather large conch shell to his ear.

Jack also looked very upset.

“For someone who calls himself an evil genius, Jack Spicer does not play with a deck of cards that have been properly counted.”

“That’s playing with a full deck!” Jack snapped at Omi but his voice was weaker than before. Chase knew that tone. He himself had a tone like that, for when he was about to cry but didn’t want anyone to know.

“Fine, fine! I give! You can have the stupid conch!”

He threw the shell at Omi, who dropped the can of silly string to catch it. The younger boy gawked.

“You can’t just give up!” He called to Jack’s retreated back. “We’re in the middle of a Showdown!”

“Yeah, well, I forfeit!”

Jack’s front door slammed closed.

Chase had seen quite enough. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling on a tank top and slipping on flip-flops as he went outside. 

“What is going on out here?”

“Oh, hey Chase!” Kimiko greeted cheerfully. “Finally decide to join us?”

“No, I’m more curious as to why you’re being so insufferably loud,” he groused out, hesitant to be honest about the real reason he was out in the street. “You woke me from my nap.”

“Well, you see, Chase Young,” Omi piped up, holding the conch shell aloft in his hand. “We just finished a Xiaolin Showdown and I have won the Mind-Reader Conch, a most powerful Shen Gong Wu indeed.” 

“Indeed,” Chase deadpanned. “Until you learn to play quietly, I’ll hold on to this Mind-Reader Conch of yours.”

And he plucked it easily from Omi’s hand.

“Hey, now, hold on there, partner,” Clay spluttered. “That belongs to Omi!”

“Yeah, he won it fair and square!”

“Yeah?” Chase asked Raimundo with a raised eyebrow, tossing it from one hand to the other. “Well, now I’ve taken it fair and square.”

Before they could say another word, Chase crossed his yard and disappeared back inside. He placed the conch shell on the window ledge, right where they could see it, just to be petty.

A satisfied smirk on his lips, he made his way back to his room, looking forward to taking another nap. This one uninterrupted. 

-oOo-

Not many would consider Jack Spicer a formidable opponent. Chase certainly didn’t. Did he pity Jack? Yes. Did he feel somewhat convicted due to the way the boy was treated? No doubt. But he couldn’t see Jack being particularly threatening.

That being said, a week after the Mind-Reader Conch incident, Chase witnessed one of the most brutal take-down he’d ever witnessed. 

Like most mornings, Chase walked back to his house form the lake at about 6 AM. Tai chi was the only thing keeping him sane at this point. That and his books. It was so easy to fall back into the faded pages of stories he knew well enough, he could dream them.

The sky was beginning to lighten, signaling the start to what was sure to be another gorgeous summer day. Chase loved these moments, savored the peaceful quiet that came from being the only one awake. 

At least, he had thought he was the only one awake. Lo and behold, his eyes fell on the only other moving thing on the street: Jack Spicer, placing a shoebox on someone’s doorstep. Chase watched him ring the doorbell before sprinting across the lawn and diving into a nearby bush.

“Chase! Don’t just stand there like an idiot! Hide!”

“Spicer, what-?”

“Oh, for the love of-!”

Before Chase could fully comprehend what was happening, he was also being tugged into the bush. Jack was crouched there, wearing a headset and holding what looked to be a remote control.

“What the hell is going on?” He hissed. Jack smirked.

“Just watch.”

He gestured to the shoebox on the doorstep. The door opened to reveal Omi wearing blue pajamas, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He picked up the shoebox, suddenly smiling. He shook it. Next to Chase, Jack was snickering quietly. Peeling the tape back, Omi finally opened the shoebox.

“YAAAAAAH!”

How Jack had managed to capture a real, live squirrel, Chase would never know. But what he did know for certain was that it was wildly worth the trouble. The squirrel sprang from the shoebox, chittering and chattering. The resulting scream was enough to wake the entire neighborhood.

Another door opened. As it did, several glowing jellyfish made of tissue paper rose from the porch. Raimundo went pale with a shout, closing the door again, the jellyfish collapsing again. Chase suspected a pulley system of some sort.

When Kimiko opened her door, she came face to face with a doll. It stepped forward, propelled by the controller in Jack’s hands.

“Play with me, Kimiko,” Jack said into the headset. It came out higher-pitched on the doll’s end. “You’re my best friend!”

Kimiko shrieked, round-house kicking the doll, sending it soaring into the cul-de-sac as she slammed her door shut.

Clay’s door opened. There was nothing on the cowboy’s porch. But that was the beauty of it. Jack punched out a new code on his phone then spoke into the headset. 

“Come and give your granny a kiss,” Jack said, the voice coming out gravelly, that of an old woman. “Kissy, kissy!”

Clay yelped, closing his door quickly.

Jack switched off his headset. Only then did he start cackling.

“Oh, my God, it worked!” He gasped, clapping his hands in mirth. “I am a genius!”

Chase gaped at him. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

“How the hell…?”

“Robotics,” Jack laughed. “Plain and simple. And the Shadow of Fear.” 

“Shadow of Fear?” Chase asked. “Is that-?”

“A Shen Gong Wu? Yup! Brings to life your opponent’s greatest fear.”

Jack reached into his backpack, pulling out a crow plushie and grinning widely.

“I think I’ve won this Showdown.”

Chase was inclined to agree.

-oOo-

“Guan, I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Chase and Guan were standing in the chip and candy aisle of the 7/11. Guan was wide-eyed as his friend recounted the events of the day prior, a fantastic tale of the most perfect form of revenge. 

“Do they know he did it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Chase said with a nod. “I have no doubt.” 

Guan snorted, taking a sip of his green apple Slurpee. He shook his head.

“Good for him. It takes guts to stand up to people, even indirectly.”

“Mm. That’s not even the best part. Look.”

He led Guan to the end of the aisle. He gestured to the table containing four very zombified kids. They all had bags under their eyes, too tired to talk, just staring into space.

“Not sleeping well, I take it.”

“Not since Spicer’s little stunt.”

Speak of the devil, the door to the 7/11 chimed and in walked Jack. He grinned broadly as he crossed to the Slurpee machine.

“Good afternoon, all!” He chirped. “Man, I slept like a rock last night! Best night of sleep I’ve had in years!”

He whistled as he got his white cherry and Coke Slurpee. After paying, he practically strutted back through the door. Like a conquering king.

Chase and Guan fell back into the aisle, laughing quietly, hands clasped tightly over their mouths.

Chase would never admit it aloud, but there was a level with respect that came with getting away with a stunt that big. He’d have to watch Spicer a bit more closely from then on out…

-oOo-

Unbeknownst to Chase, Jack had made quite the habit out of watching Chase practice tai chi. Of course, Jack didn’t really know what it was called. He just thought it looked really cool. Several days a week, he’d go out to the lake before Chase even got there, settling himself in the oak tree.

For Jack, it was almost as good as actually hanging out with Chase. Almost. 

The air outside was cool from the night and Jack folded his arms under his head as he stretched out on his stomach leisurely. He watched Chase move in his mysterious single-person dance. His eyes were impossibly heavy (it was roughly 5:30 AM) and he closed them…

And woke up when he hit the ground hard. 

“Spicer?!”

The angry shock in Chase’s voice had Jack’s head snapping up, wide-eyed. He scrambled away from the teenager until his back hit the tree trunk and he cowered.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I can explain, I swear!”

“Spicer, how long have you been there?” Chase demanded to know. His eyes fell on the binoculars, lying in the grass beside him, and his eyes narrowed. “Have you been spying on me?!” 

“No! I mean… Yes? I-I just wanted to watch!”

“How long have you been watching me?”

Jack didn’t answer. He squeaked when Chase took a step forward.

“How long, Spicer?”

“F-for a month…? I think? Maybe two…?”

There was a pause where Chase just stared. Then he exploded.

“You’ve been spying on me for two months?!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry!”

“Shut up,” Chase snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes with a huff. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, reigning in his emotions. A sniffle prompted him to open his eyes.

Jack was crying. 

“S-sorry…” He hiccuped. “I’m sorry…”

He swiped at his eyes with his arm. His hands were shaking. Chase sighed.

“Spicer,” he said, keeping his voice even. “Why were you watching me?”

“J-just that…” Another sniffle. “Y-you’re so freaking cool and I’m-I’m… I wanna be l-like you… Everyone likes you…” 

Chase swallowed hard. He thought back to what he’d seen, what he’d heard over the past month. Did Jack have anyone at all? Even Wuya, his older sister, was unnecessarily harsh with him. Where did that leave Chase? Was he just another passing person to brush Jack off like an annoying insect? It left a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t like it. At all.

“Stand up.”

Wide red eyes stared, awash with tears, and Chase felt a painful tug in his chest. Damn him and his bleeding heart.

“Here.”

Chase offered his hand. Hesitantly, shakily, Jack took it. It was smaller compared to Chase’s, a thin pale spider, warm to the touch. He pulled him to his feet.

“Stand like this.”

He stood with one foot flat on the ground, the other foot right beside it, up on the toe. He held his arms behind his back, out of the way. Jack copied him slowly, still sniffling.

“L-like this?”

“Bend your knees. You don’t want to be stiff.”

“Okay…”

“Watch and follow.”

Chase dragged his toe lightly in a circle away from him, placing hi heel down and turning his torso to the left. Jack followed shakily. 

“Whichever foot you’re leading with, follow it with your full torso, hips to shoulders.”

Jack nodded, hastily adjusting his stance.

“Like this?”

“Yes, just so. After you get this walk down, we’ll add arms…”

Chase moved slowly, Jack mimicking his stance, the lake glistening in the early morning light. The rest of the hour was passed just like that. When 6 AM came around, they went their separate ways. But from then on out, three days a week, Jack joined Chase to learn tai chi.

And from then on out, Jack had a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think; your thoughts are valuable, jewels in this West Texas desert.   
In the meantime, a question for my readers: Who is your best friend and why?  
Evermore will be updated next weekend!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st


	3. What to do about a Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaack! My retreat up to the mountains last weekend was fantastic. Thank you for your patience.  
Enjoy!

“What are you doing, Guan?”

Chase was clad in sweatpants and a scowl, a little more than exasperated at this point. Besides his mother dragging him out of the house for back-to-school shopping the day before, the entire whatzit-showdown-hoedown-shindig the little annoyances on the street played was driving him absolutely bonkers.

Guan, who was standing on Chase’s front porch, smiled apologetically. He was passing a small stuffed dragon from hand to hand, looking for the proper words. Which were anything that would avoid ending in several painfully-placed bruises. 

“I need a favor.”

“I am not playing their stupid game.”

“Just…” Guan sighed, holding out the dragon, its holographic scales catching the sun. “Take the dragon. Keep it away from them. That’s all you have to do.”

Chase huffed, taking it with an eye roll.

“You owe me,” He groaned. Guan nodded. 

“I’ll buy you pho or something.”*

“In this heat?”

“The next time you want it then.”

Muttering in reluctant agreement, Chase shut the door. 

He took a moment to examine the toy in his hands. It was plush and green, long like a traditional Chinese dragon. It was probably Omi’s, he couldn’t help thinking wryly. Because why would any of the other own a Chinese dragon plushy? He placed it on the windowsill right beside the conch shell that he had yet to return. He likely never would.

Maybe he’d give it to Jack. Since the morning Chase caught him, he’d continued to teach him tai chi, inviting him out to the lake with him several times a week. Jack was proving decent at it. While all the instruction in the world couldn’t fix his naturally clumsy nature, he was enthusiastic and therefore, had potential. 

Perhaps a gift from Chase would be proper, an olive branch of sorts for his previously callous behavior. Jack had caught a summer cold which was, according to Wuya, a regular occurrence. Maybe… Since the boy was sick… He’d enjoy some company. 

He plucked the conch shell off the windowsill before he could change his mind.

-oOo-

Jack was… Pretty miserable. He sniffled then coughed into his blankets. They were pulled tight around his body, making a warm cocoon. It offered little comfort, unfortunately. His nose kept running and his throat burned in a way that water couldn’t sooth. It wasn’t fair, Jack mused. Being albino not only made him sensitive to the sun but sensitive to seemingly everything. 

It wasn’t uncommon for him to be bedridden with a cold at least once a season. 

He flipped to the next page of his manga, trying to distract himself from the pressure in his skull. His eyes skimmed down the panels. It was his favorite, the pages yellowed from time, a couple of them torn at the edges from utter devotion.

“_‘I will change this insane world. Watch me,’_…” He read to himself, muttering the words softly. 

A knock at the door yanked him rudely out of the story.

“What?” He called hoarsely.

The door opened and immediately, Jack blushed to the roots of his hair. Chase, of all people, was standing in the doorway.

“Chase!” He squeaked, shutting and shoving his manga under his pillow. “W-what are you doing here?”

“That’s a good manga,” he offered. Jack blinked, not noticing in his hazy mind that Chase had smoothly deflected the question. He pushed himself up against the pillows, wincing at the slight throb in his head. 

“You’ve read _Gundam Wing_?”

Chase shook his head.

“Just _Episode Zero_. But I’ve watched the anime. May I come in?”

“Um… S-sure…”

Chase entered the room fully, closing the door quietly behind him. He barely glanced around before thrusting a bag from 7/11 at Jack.

“Here.”

Jack accepted it, baffled, before peeking curiously inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. Inside was a bag of gummy bears, crackers, orange juice, tea, and a Sudoku book.

But at the bottom of the bag was the most interesting item. Reaching in, Jack slowly pulled out a conch shell. Not just any conch shell… The Mind-Reader Conch! He looked up at Chase, his confusion written all over his face.

“Where… How did you get this?”

Chase shrugged, suddenly far more interested in examining his nails than looking at Jack. 

“Just something I picked up somewhere,” he said vaguely. Jack frowned, wiping the back of his hand across his nose with a sniff. He set the conch shell back down in the bag.

“I-I may look it, Chase,” Jack coughed. “But I’m not stupid.” 

“I don’t think you’re…” Chase trailed off. He cleared his throat, straightening up. “I hope you feel better soon.”

He turned to leave, uncomfortable with the squirming in his stomach.

“Chase, wait-!”

“What?” Chase snapped, turning back. Jack flinched, turning his eyes down quickly. Chase took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn’t Jack he was angry with, he told himself. Just his own feelings. He tried again, this time softer. “What is it?”

“O-Omi was the last one to have this…” He said quietly, fidgeting. “Does that mean-? Did you see…?”

Chase sighed.

“Unfortunately, yes. I did see. And hear. I took the it because with great power comes great responsibility.”

Jack giggled, breaking off into a coughing fit. When he finally caught his breath again, he smiled weakly.

“Alright, Spider-Man.”

“Uncle Ben, technically,” Chase corrected with a slight smirk. “But you were close. They were only looking for a way to justify their ugly words. All power comes from within. True power, that is. If they don’t have the guts to say something to your face and have to hide behind a toy? Then they are cowards.”

Jack’s eyes travelled down again as Chase talked. His hands, the twisted blanket gripped tightly in fists, burred slightly and he struggled to choke the traitorous tears back.

“S-so you don’t think…?”

“Nothing they said to you was true,” Chase reassured him. “And you should not let their words bother nor define you.”

“Thanks, Chase.”

“You’re welcome, Spicer.”

“Th-thanks for… For coming to see me,” he added after a moment. “You’re the first person to come see me. When I’m sick, I mean. So thanks.”

“Of course,” Chase said with a shrug. He opened Jack’s door again. “Get some rest; you still have a lot of tai chi to learn.”

Jack grinned as the door closed. Removing the conch shell from the bag again, he placed it on his bedside table. Then he cracked open the orange juice along with the Sudoku book, practically glowing from Chase’s kindness.

-oOo-

When he first began to teach him, Chase never really meant to hang out with Jack outside of tai chi practice. However, after gifting him the seashell, their friendship went from questionable to undeniable. Tai chi a few times a week became something almost every day. Trips to the 7/11 for Slurpees, bike rides around the neighborhood, climbing trees… Chase found himself actually having fun for the first time in a long time.

This particular afternoon, Jack was sketching at his desk and, upon seeing Chase exit his front door with a grocery list, scrambled to pull on his shoes and join him. The bell rang as they entered the 7/11, grateful to get out of the heat. 

Four pairs of eyes fell on them as they entered.

“Chase Young!”

Chase raised an eyebrow, turning to find Omi leaping to his feet, mouth set in a scowl. It was rather amusing on him as he was roughly half Chase’s height. He couldn’t help but smirk.

“Yes?”

“Return Dojo to me at once!”

The smirk fell away as Chase’s brow furrowed.

“Return what?”

“He means his stuffed dragon, partner,” Clay drawled around his Slurpee straw. “His name is Dojo.”

“He is a most valuable dragon,” Omi insisted, “and I would very much like him back! Along with the Mind-Reader Conch that you have also stolen from me!”

“No can do, chrome-dome,” Jack shot back before Chase could even respond. “Chase needs that dragon for his soup.”

Chase was secretly glad Jack didn’t tell them he had the seashell; after all, it really wasn’t his to give away. Plus, if they knew Jack had it, they’d probably demand it back. At least Chase had the luxury of being intimidating, capable of standing up for himself. Jack was… Soft. Sensitive. 

All the same, the comment about soup confused Chase. He shot Jack a questioning look, who flushed. 

“It’s part of your villain backstory,” he explained. “You traded your soul for a potion that keeps you forever young.”

“Appropriate,” Chase snorted. “Since my last name is Young.”

“It’s made of dragons,” Kimiko chipped in, stirring her soda with the straw. “So you stole Dojo to make him into soup.”

“Does this soup also call for dried toad and bat wings?” Chase muttered vaguely, obviously unenthused as he looked over the list his mom gave him. 

“Bat wings are kinda cliche… But dried toad isn’t a bad idea!” Raimundo said with a grin, tapping his pencil against the notebook in the middle of the table. He jotted it down as Chase groaned.

“I don’t have time for this.”

He stalked away down the aisle toward the drink fridges. Jack regarded the others warily.

“How come Chase gets to be immortal? I could totally sell my soul!”

“Nah,” Raimundo said, waving a hand as he slouched in his chair. “Evil boy genius suits you. Besides, if you’re lucky, Chase might even make you a side-kick or an apprentice or something.”

“Wait, really?” Jack asked, perking up instantly at the idea. “You think so?”

“Of course!” Omi shrugged. “You are friends, are you not?”

That made Jack pause. Friends? Him and Chase? He hadn’t really thought about it but… They _had_ been hanging out quite a lot, hadn’t they? He glanced to where Chase was. He wasn’t too far off, holding a pint of milk and checking the list again. Jack felt blood creeping up into his cheeks.

Clay grinned.

“Looks like Jack’s got a major crush.”

Jack spun around.

“I do not-!”

And lost his balance, sneakers slipping on the tiles with a squeak. 

Luckily he never hit the ground. Hands caught him just under the arms and he tilted his head back, heart in his throat.

Chase’s eyes really were golden, Jack couldn’t help but think. Fiery as cognac and twice as potent. Strands of black hair fell into his face. Jack swallowed. 

“H-hey, Chase,” he laughed nervously. “Did you know that you’re the greatest evil villain of all time?”

A soft snort. Then a smirk that made Jack weak at the knees.

“I do have a certain reputation.”

Setting Jack back on his feet, he retrieved the pint of milk from where he’d dropped it. Omi, wholly unsatisfied, followed him to the register. Jack stayed where he was, taking deep breaths to compose himself, waiting for his heart to stop thundering in his ears.

“I demand that you return Dojo!” Omi ordered, pointing. “And the Mind-Reader Conch!”

Chase’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the finger in his face. Ignoring it, he paid the cashier and took his bag. It was when Omi stepped between him and the door that he decided he’d had enough. Plucking Omi up by the back of his shirt (earning a squawk of indignation), he set him aside out of the way.

“I’m not do-!”

“Maybe not but I certainly am,” Chase hissed, fists clenching. “I will not be returning your seashell to you due to your tendency to abuse others with its imagined abilities. As for your dragon, perhaps you should ask Guan why he gave it to me in the first place.”

Raimundo, Kimiko, and Clay exchanged puzzled frowns. Omi scratched his head.

“I do not understand,” he mused. “Master Monk Guan is a good guy! Good guys don’t behave like villains!” 

“Just ask him,” Chase growled, yanking the door open. “Come on, Spicer.”

Jack scurried out after him, leaving the others gaping and bewildered.

-oOo-

Yin and Yang mewed excitedly, rubbing against Chase’s legs and making it very difficult to walk in a straight line. Smiling fondly, he unfolded the bag of cat food, scooping out a cup for each kitten. He paused when the doorbell rang. Detaching Yin from his pant leg and depositing her by one of the bowls, he made his way to the front door.

Guan was standing on his doorstep with a pained smile and instantly Chase dreaded the reason why. And he’d been having such a peaceful day. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “What is it?”

“It’s about the dragon,” Guan said, a glint of amusement in his eye. “Let me fight you for it.”

Chase leaned to the side, looking beyond Guan to narrow his eyes at the four children on the sidewalk. Omi stuck his tongue out.

“Guan,” Chase said, eyes turning back to his friend, “this is ridiculous.”

“Come on,” he wheedled, grinning just a bit. “At least put on a little show for them. It’ll be fun!”

“This is most certainly not my idea of fun.”

“What’s going on, guys?”

Jack had joined the other four on the street wearing an Iron Man tank top and black jeans. He’d been about to drop in on Chase to ask if he wanted to get a Slurpee. But by the looks of things, Chase was already busy. Which was a total bummer. 

“Guan is gonna Showdown Chase for Dojo!”

At hearing Raimundo’s excited declaration, Chase’s scowl deepened.

“I am not going to-!”

“Hell yeah! Kick his ass, Chase!”

Chase stopped short, frowning. Jack grinning at him, giving him two thumbs up. 

“Show these Xiaolin losers who’s boss!”

There was a beat of silence. He supposed… If Jack believed he could, Chase could be a villain. 

Yeah. He’d be the best villain these children ever saw. He turned back to Guan, letting a lazy smirk roll out across his lips.

“I challenge you to a Showdown. If you win, you may take your dragon.”

“What if I lose?” Guan asked, grinning knowingly. 

Chase looked around for inspiration and then down when he felt pressure against his calf. Yang was rubbing against his leg, purring loudly. Kimiko and Jack ‘awww’ed together.

“If you lose, you will join the other fallen warriors enslaved in the beasts that serve me,” Chase threatened, gesturing loosely to the cat.

“You’ll turn him into a cat? That’s so freaking metal!” Jack gushed. Clay jotted down a note in their spiral notebook, muttering something about jungle cats as Omi’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ of awe.

The fight itself didn’t last very long. Mostly because Chase was obviously trying to lose so he could get out of playing their game. He dodged Guan’s kick but let a punch catch him off guard, jumped over a leg sweep, blocked, blocked, blocked, missed a kick… 

Finally, Guan performed a take-down. Pinning Chase to the ground with a hand, he counted to three before releasing. Chase exaggerated a groan.

“Oh, no, I’ve lost,” he deadpanned, flat on his back in the grass. “How awful.”

Jack hurried over.

“Chase, you okay?”

Chase snorted when he heard actual worry deep in his tone. He sat up.

“Of course, I’m alright,” he huffed, standing and brushing himself off. He went back into the house briefly to retrieve the dragon. He tossed it to Guan, who was surrounded by the four excitedly chattering kids. “I’m a villain of my word; you are free to go.”

“W-wait, what?” Jack gaped as Guan handed the dragon back to an elated Omi. “You're not gonna cheat or something? Isn’t that what bad guys do?”

“Not this bad guy,” Chase said with a shrug. “Wanna get a Slurpee?”

“Hell, yeah!”

And so began Chase’s involvement in Xiaolin Showdowns. 

-oOo-

It was that time of the summer when it was so miserably hot that no one wanted to be outside. Omi, Raimundo, Kimiko, and Clay sat around the table at 7/11, sharing a box of popsicles. Their group was twice as big as usual; Chase, Guan, Jack, and Wuya had joined them, united in their hatred of the sun.

“Do they really expect us to go to school in this heat?” Jack groaned, licking up a sticky streak of lime green off his hand. Wuya scowled.

“That’s two weeks away; keep your mouth shut,” she griped. She licked up the side of her grape popsicle, smirking at Chase lightly. Chase shuddered, looking away, not realizing Jack was also watching him.

Chase’s cherry popsicle dripped down onto his hand and he licked it up deftly. Then he dipped his head down, sucking most of the popsicle into his mouth, causing Jack to choke down an involuntary whine. He shifted uncomfortably, tearing his gaze away. 

“I am most excited to be back at school,” Omi gushed with a grin despite Wuya’s groan. “Since I will be a 5th grader, I will be top cat!”

“You mean ‘top dog’,” Clay corrected him. “Being in 7th grade is nothing special, I guess…” 

“Yeah, well, I’ll be a 9th grader,” Jack boasted, grinning.

“I thought you were 13?” Guan asked curiously. Jack’s grin broadened as Wuya rolled her eyes.

“Jack thinks he’s hot shit for skipping 8th grade.”

“No, I know I’m hot shit for skipping 8th grade,” he sneered, flicking popsicle juice at his sister. She squawked in indignation making Chase smirk. 

“That’s so not fair,” Kimiko grumbled, finishing off her popsicle. “That means I won’t have anyone to talk tech with at the middle school.”

“We still have lunches together,” Raimundo pointed out.

“True enough… The perks of small private schools are worth all the pressure on academic scores,” Kimiko mused.

“I don’t wanna talk about school,” Clay drawled. “It’s giving me a stomach ache.”

“Three popsicles tend to do that as well,” Chase pointed out wryly.

Omi gasped loudly. Everyone at the table reared back in surprise.

“I have an idea!” He announced, a twinkle of inspiration in his eye. “It is hot enough to bake cookies on the pavement, yes?”

“Perhaps,” Guan conceded with a shrug.

“And it is too hot to have a Showdown.”

“Agreed,” Jack snorted.

“We should all go swimming! At the lake! We have not swam yet this summer and I think we can all agree it is too hot to be outside but too boring to be inside!”

“Now that’s a mighty fine idea,” Clay said with a grin, pushing back from the table.

“Race you back to the cul-de-sac!” Kimiko hollered, shoving past Raimundo (who laughed) and out the door.

“You’re on!”

“You kids have fun,” Wuya sniffed, also standing from the table. “I’ve got adult things to do.”

“I, too, also have somewhere I need to be,” Guan admitted. Omi spluttered a little. 

“Oh, but-!” He cut off when Guan patted his head with a smile.

“Maybe next time, Omi. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I have nothing better to do,” Chase sighed, trying to feign disinterest. In truth, Chase loved swimming. He was quite good at it, too, at ease in the water.

“Y-Yeah! Sounds good…” Jack blurted. “Meet you guys there…”

Something ached low in his stomach, something panicky. Typically, he avoided the lake aside for tai chi lessons. But if Chase was going to be there… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

-oOo- 

Jack sat on the edge of the dock, feet in the water. He watched Clay dunk Raimundo and Omi swim circles around Kimiko. Chase lazily swam this way and that, keeping the others at a distance.

How did they do that? He couldn’t help but wonder. Was there a technique to it? Or did you just kick and push at the water and hope for the best?

He wished he could be out there. He picked at his nails, stomach aching. It was just another wall between him and the other kids, another reason why he’d always be on the outside looking in.

“Why haven’t you gotten in yet?”

Jack was yanked out of his self-loathing by Chase. His arms were folded on the dock beside him, holding himself somewhat out of the water. Jack choked on his tongue at the sight. His long, dark hair was braided to keep it out of his way, water running in rivulets over his olive skin. The muscles of his arms and shoulders were taught and it took all of Jack’s self-control not to touch them. He knew he must look ridiculous, his torso scrawny and practically luminescent next to Chase’s.

“I…Um…”

“Jack cannot swim!”

Now Jack had reasonable cause for strangling Omi. He avoided Chase’s eyes as heat climbed up his neck and into his cheeks. His hands shook where they clutched the edge of the dock.

To his shock, Chase didn’t mock him for it.

“The water isn’t so deep here,” he said. He demonstrated by letting go of the dock and sinking down into the water. It came up to his collarbone.

“Maybe for you,” Jack sighed, kicking at the water moodily. “My chin would be underwater.”

Chase seemed to ponder this for a minute. Then, fast as anything, his hand snaked out, grabbing Jack’s wrist. With a single tug, Jack fell from the dock with a yelp.

The water, bracing when compared to the blazing sun, enveloped him, knocking the breath from his lungs. Panic set in and he kicked out helplessly. Hands gripped behind his knees and suddenly, his head broke the surface. He spluttered and coughed and gasped, looping his arms around Chase’s neck, legs also locking around his waist. Chase snorted.

“I’ve got you.”

“I-I can’t believe you-you did that!”

“Feel better?”

“… Yes.”

And he did. A slight breeze passed over, cooling his skin. The water lapped at his shoulders, hair plastered to his forehead and water trickling down in-between his eyes.

“The first thing you need to learn is the flutter kick. It’s fairly straightforward. You keep your legs straight- don’t bend your knees- and point your toes. Then kick.”

“O-okay…”

“Do you want to try?”

Jack clung tighter to Chase, pressing his face to the back of his neck and shaking his head. Chase huffed softly. He tapped Jack’s knee lightly.

“Put your legs down; I have an idea.”

“No!”

“Trust me, Spicer."

Slowly, Jack untangled his legs from around Chase’s waist, his body a limp line. His feet brushed against the back of Chase’s calves. It was the closest he’d allowed Jack to get at this point, literally pressed up against him. His voice was nervous in his ear.

“What’s y-your idea?”

“I’m going to swim underwater with you on my back. Keep your arms around my neck. I want you to practice the flutter kick.”

“What if I need to breathe?”

“Squeeze my arm three times.”

They both took deep breaths before Chase dipped under, kicking off from the lake bed. His powerful legs kicked out and he could feel Jack’s legs above him doing the same. The arms around his neck shook in nerves. Chase gripped Jack’s hands, prying them off. He moved his arms in a breath stroke pushing the water back behind him so Jack could feel his form. 

Jack’s hands squeezed his three times. Chase arched his back, kicking up to the surface where the sun’s rays turned the water a warm green. When they broke, Jack gasped, catching his breath. Chase also panted, not quite used to carrying someone on his back.

“Not bad for your first time,” he complimented, looping Jack’s arms back around his neck. He walked back towards the dock, glad they didn’t venture into deeper waters. “Do you want to try it alone?”

“No thanks… This was good enough for now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Chase.”

Jack felt his face burn as he found himself nearly nose to nose with Chase. The teen dropped down, lifting Jack up by the backs of the thighs and depositing him back on the dock. Chase’s hands landed on either side of his legs on wood, his head tilting up to flick a piece of wayward hair out of his face.

It was a complete and total accident.

When Chase’s head tilted up, his lips brushed against Jack’s. Jack jerked back, inhaling sharply. Chase’s eyes widened. He pushed away quickly, falling back into the water, spluttering.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Apologies fell unbidden from Jack’s trembling lips. “I-I didn’t mean-!”

“Shut up! Just… Shut up, Spicer!”

Chase clambered out of the lake, somehow still managing to be graceful, even when insanely flustered. He stomped over to the tree where all their towels were hanging, grabbing his as Jack scrambled to follow. 

“Chase, wait, I-!”

Chase whirled around, hair escaping his braid and framing his face in a wild halo. Jack stopped cold, wide-eyed.

“This never happened, got it?”

“Y-Yeah! Never happened! Got it! Sorry!”

“I’m going home. Good day.”

And before Jack could say anything else, Chase was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Just so y'all know, I am well aware that pho is Vietnamese and not Chinese. It's just something I love and something I can imagine Chase and Guan eating together.
> 
> Lots of dramaaa! This chapter makes some pretty direct parallels with the show itself (except for that fun last scene, of course). Let me know what you thought! I'll be updating Evermore next week.  
Answer down below: If you've had a first kiss, what was it like?  
'Til next time!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st


	4. Hell Disguised as Education

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, um... Am definitely bisexual. If you're curious about the deetz, you can message me on Tumblr.
> 
> Let's get this show on the road!

After the incident at the lake, Chase went from seeing Jack almost every day to avoiding him like the plague. Every time he spotted the redhead, he couldn’t but think about the… He refused to call it a kiss. A kiss wasn’t meant to be a clumsy accident with someone of the same sex. At least, in Chase’s mind that was the case.

Jack’s thoughts on the entire debacle were of a completely different strand. He was mortified, true, but also couldn’t believe his luck. An accidental first kiss with Chase Young. His sister would seethe if she knew. But true to his word, Jack hadn’t told a soul.

It was as if his crush, innocent and harmless at first, had caught fire. It burned through the night, keeping Jack awake and choking him with smoke as he turned the kiss over and over in his mind. By the morning, he’d emerge charred, exhausted. 

He missed his friend.

That’s why slight panic churned in his stomach when an unfamiliar car pulled into Chase’s driveway on Friday. It’d been a week since they’d last spoken so Jack’s heart jumped up into his throat when Chase exited the house, tossed his duffle bag into the trunk, and got into the passenger seat.

“Don’t look so sad, you’ll make me cry,” Wuya huffed from the hallway. Jack turned to see her with her laundry basket on her hip. “I bet that’s his dad. They got a divorce, y’know?”

“His dad?”

“Yeah, that’s why they moved to the neighborhood.”

“How do you know that?” Jack asked accusingly. Wuya examined her nails. 

“Heard it through the grapevine. Everyone knows Chase’s dad is seriously powerful. He’s like… A CEO or something. Chase hates his guts, though.”

Jack looked back out to the street where the car was pulling out of the driveway. Ice sank in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what yet, but he would find out.

Maybe because it was almost September. High school loomed.

-oOo-

There was a bruise on Chase’s bicep.

Jack’s eyes fixated on it, following it- following him- around the 7/11 as Chase picked out his typical snacks. His t-shirt sleeve didn’t quite cover the splotchy purple and blue mottling the otherwise flawless skin…

Jack wanted nothing more than to press his lips to it. Unfortunately, all Jack could think about were lips. Specifically what he could do with his lips. To Chase.

He wanted to kiss Chase again. This time for much, much longer. With tongue.

“Jack, your ice cream is melting.”

Kimiko’s snide voice broke through Jack’s fantasies and he flushed deeply, licking the rivulet of white off his hand. She rolled her eyes but there was a glint of knowing in them. 

Even though they typically left Jack out, the other four must’ve felt the vibes of lonely despair rolling off him; Chase still wasn’t talking to him. No, Chase was straight-up avoiding him.

Omi huffed.

“This is stupid. Why not just talk to Chase?”

“Omi, dude,” Raimundo groaned, leaning back in his chair, nose deep in a comic book. “Let it go.”

“But it makes no sense!” He insisted, throwing his hands up. “Jack and Chase are best friends!”

“I dunno,” Clay mused around his straw, also absorbed in a comic book. “Chase and Guan seem joined at the hip.”

Sure enough, Guan was tapping away at his phone, laughing at something Chase said. Jack scowled, taking an angry bite of ice cream and immediately regretting it as pain shot through his teeth. He hissed, waving his hand around desperately. Raimundo cracked up.

“Dude, don’t bite it! Jeez!”

“Shit, that was bad,” Jack wheezed, eyes watering.

On the other side of the 7/11, Guan was talking under his breath, hand cold from the condensation on his can of Mountain Dew.

“Look, Chase, it was obviously an accident,” he reasoned. “Jack may be the type to mess with people he disagrees with but… You’ve been alright so far. You’ve done nothing to deserve his anger.”

Chase wouldn’t meet Guan’s eyes, choosing instead to scan the fridge for drink options.

“Then how come every time I look at him, he…” 

Returned his head to look at Jack. The other boy’s eyes darted down as he animatedly began to talk with the other kids, ignoring Chase completely. Chase looked back to Guan with an I-told-you-so expression. 

“He’s terrified of you,” Guan said, rolling his eyes. “You knocked your head against his and you yelled at him. He probably thinks you hate him.”

Chase shook his head vehemently. 

“No, there’s… He should know me better than that. Jack knows I can’t hate him.”

“Does he?”

They left the 7/11, Chase’s gaze pinned firmly on the ground, trying not to see the scorn in Jack’s eyes. It was so embarrassing, he could hardly stand it. Why wouldn’t Jack talk to him?

He didn’t see Jack’s eyes follow him all the way out the door.

-oOo-

“I need help.”

Wuya, who was draped across the couch, looked up over her copy of Cosmopolitan, arching an eyebrow at Jack’s announcement. His colorless hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in all directions. He’d been obviously messing with it.

“Well, duh,” Wuya agreed flatly. “But with what?”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“I can’t show up on my first day of high school looking like a freaking ghost.”

“And you expect me tooo… What?”

“Wuyaaa!”

Wuya groaned dramatically, finally lowering her magazine in defeat.

“Fine, fine! If I help you dye it, will you shut up?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, what color?”

“Um… I don’t know yet,” Jack admitted. “Could you drive me somewhere they sell dye so I can look?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Wuya said, standing. She made her way to her room, talking as she went. “Most colors will wash you out.”

“I’m already washed out, Wuya,” Jack sighed as she put on slip-slops and slipped her wallet into the back pocket of her low-slung jeans. “I just need something other than white.”

“You need some kind of color, I agree,” Wuya said, pulling her hair into a ponytail as they left the house.

In the driveway was her purple Mustang and it sparkled in the late summer sun. The car was a parental gift to placate the consistent absence in their children’s lives. It would do, Wuya reflected as she revved the car up. It would do quite nicely.

She plucked two pairs of sunglasses from the center console and offered a pair to Jack, who slipped them on. He started fiddling with the radio, earning a smack on the hand.

Once at the beauty store, they started perusing the aisles. 

“Blue?” She asked, holding up a box of navy dye. Jack wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.

“Too dark. I want something bright.”

“If it’s too distracting, they’ll make you dye it back, y’know,” she warned, putting the box back on the shelf. She heard her brother sigh from an aisle away. 

“They already stare.”

It was a quiet reply but Wuya heard it all the same. She was no fool. She knew her younger brother hated all the attention, wished he could blend right in. Unfortunately, Jack had been granted the coloring of a demon. Wuya personally thought it was kinda cool; if he played his cards right, Jack would pull off being extremely intimidating. 

But, then again, his heart was not made of fire and brimstone. Instead, it was made of vanilla bean ice cream. Soft and gentle and entirely too sweet.

For a moment there, she had a twinge of worry. High school was going to eat him for breakfast. Then she rolled her eyes; honestly, Jack would be fine.

A sudden screech brought her back to earth. Jack spun around the corner, grinning widely. In his hands was a box of Fiery Red hair dye. 

-oOo-

Jack woke up when his alarm rang at 6 AM. He’d done everything in his power to get a good night’s rest for his first day at Weld-Smith, trying to fix his sleep schedule the week before and popping a ZzzQuil pill the night before. Despite his best efforts, however, Jack still woke feeling groggy. 

Underneath the tiredness was this powerful foreboding, like the ticking down of a time-bomb, waiting to rain total disaster down on him. 

He pulled on black skinny jeans and a striped shirt, fumbling around in the dark for his zipper hoodie. The light flicked on with a flash and he yelped, covering his eyes.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head!” Wuya crowed at him.

“What the hell, Wuya?!”

“Just making sure you’re up,” she said with a grin before disappearing towards the kitchen. Jack muttered darkly about sadistic older sisters as he tugged on his black Converse.

Stumbling into the bathroom, he did a double-take at his reflection. He wasn’t quite used to the bright red hair yet and it still caught him off guard. He loved it all the same. He ruffled it with a grin, trying to tame it somehow.

His mind drifted to Chase. Would he see him that day? He thought of his long, dark hair, how he habitually pushed it back out of his face…

Jack looked at his reflection again. Maybe he could…

It was worth a try.

-oOo-

“Ugh, I can’t believe I have to be seen with you,” Wuya groaned as they made the trek from her parking space up to the school.

Jack trailed along right behind her, his hair slicked back. He’d finally achieved the look by wetting his hair and brushing it back whilst blow-drying. In the end, it looked decent.

“I still can’t believe you’re wearing eyeliner,” Way said, rolling her eyes. Jack scowled.

“I like it,” he huffed. “It’s edgy.”

His red eyes were lined in black. He’d fiddled around with Wuya’s make-up for years, just enjoying the feeling of painting his face. When they’d picked up his hair dye, he’d felt compelled to also pay for an eyeliner pen in Coal Black.

In the end, Jack was glad he did. He felt like some sort of gothic rockstar. 

The facade of the school was imposing. Tall, red and white brick walls stared them down, the words Weld-Smith emblazoned in silver over the three sets of double-doors. As they stepped inside, a blast of air conditioning smacked them in the face. The office was on their immediate right, the sizable library on the left. Straight ahead was a massive cafeteria, the back wall completely made of glass windows. They looked out onto a concrete courtyard with round tables. 

“Tata, loser.”

Jack opened his mouth to clap back but Wuya had already fled, taking long strides to meet up with a group of people she obviously knew. They immediately starting laughing and high-giving.

Suddenly, Jack was very much alone.

He swallowed, looking down at the schedule in his sweaty hands. First period was… World Geography, room 105, with Mr. Shields. He took a couple of shaky steps forward, glancing around for anyone he might know, anyone at all.

The bell rang. All hell broke loose. 

As Jack navigated/panicked his way through the crowded halls, he had the sickening realization that almost everyone was taller and bigger than him. Of course, what did he expect?He skipped a grade! Technically, he should be in 8th, not 9th… He knew he should’ve flunked that stupid entrance exam on purpose. 

Locker 293 was his. The lock wasn’t all that complicated but Jack couldn’t help but notice so many students around him struggling.

“Stupid piece of shit,” the guy on his left cursed under his breath as he gave up on his lock and went on to class, backpack and all. Slam! Slam! Slam! Lockers were thrown closed, echoing down the hallway, a great cacophony of bangs.

Jack’s locker opened with ease. After removing his binder from his messenger bag, he shoved the bag into his locker and slammed it closed. Alright, he had to admit… Slamming it was satisfying. 

Another bell rang. Jack panicked.

“That’s the warning bell!” A teacher called down the hall. “You have one minute to get to class!”

Moving as quickly as he could without running (he didn’t want to get yelled at on the first day), Jack made his way to his class.

Room 100… 102… 105!

The teacher was wearing a plaid button-down, standing just outside the classroom. His dark hair peppered with streaks of gray spoke of stress but it only made him look more dignified. The smile he gave Jack crinkled the corners of twinkling eyes. Instantly, the tension drained out of Jack’s shoulders.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice deep and filled with inexplicable warmth. “Go ahead and find a seat.”

The room was already well on its way to being full of his new peers. Jack weighed his options carefully. Sitting at the very front would draw too much attention… The back wasn’t much better; the kids back there were rather scary-looking. The very idea of sitting in the middle filled him with anxiety. His eyes darted to a seat by one of the windows about halfway down the row. He claimed it quickly, placing his binder down on the surface before taking a seat. 

Jack flipped open his binder. Inside was a spiral notebook, a folder, and a pencil case, all of them clicked into place. The pencil case was black but everything else was a lovely dark green he’d begun to favor. He had a different colored binder for every class, each with its own spiral, folder, and pencil case. Wuya laughed at him when she took him to get school supplies but Jack didn’t care; he liked being organized.

A purple messenger bag slammed down on the desk beside him and he jumped. The girl who slid into the chair made him do a double-take. She had the longest brown hair he’d ever seen. It covered the desk and draped off it in a cascade when she rested her head down on her bag. Jack blinked. He was pretty sure she’d immediately fallen asleep.

The girl in front of Jack wore a bleached blonde pixie cut and black tank top (that she would most definitely get dress-coded for), her hot pink beats around her neck. She slouched in her chair, dropping a spiral notebook on the desk. She half-turned in her chair. 

“Can I borrow a pencil?” 

After a scrambled moment, Jack procured one of his pristinely sharpened number 2 pencils and handed it over.

“Thanks, I always forget one… This seat taken?”

“Only by you.”

The girl grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth against tan skin.

“Purr-fect.”

The bell rang.

-oOo-

Chase bounced his leg, his laces on his brand-new high-tops trembling. They were black and white with gold accents and were honestly the coolest things he owned. They were also a gift from his dad in an attempt to get him to move out of his mom’s house. Of course, that hadn’t worked.

His eyes flickered up to the board, rubbing his arm absentmindedly where his sleeve only just hid the bruise. The board had the teacher’s name on it: Mrs. Peterson. He hoped she was at least nice; Chase barely made the cut for this stupid class. But he could still hear his father’s voice in his head…

_“Any idiot can do Trigonometry. Take Pre-Calculous.”_

So Chase was in Pre-Calculous. 

It definitely could’ve been worse. At least he was in class with people he knew. Guan was seated on his right, Dashi in front of him. Dashi was slim and bald, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Despite his quite goofy and friendly demeanor, Chase was well aware he could kick the ass of anyone at school. Dashi didn’t look it, but he was strong and quick, a master at parkour, tai chi, and kung fu. 

And Omi was his cousin. No one bothered him.

“Hey, Chase,” Wuya sang, slipping into the seat on his left. He scowled.

“What do you want, Wuya?” He groaned. She smirked widely as she crossed her legs. It made her already short skirt ride up more, showing another few inches of tanned skin.

“Isn’t it great? We have two classes together!”

“Fantastic.”

Chase didn’t hear her response. A figure with very white skin and bright red hair stepping into the classroom, looking wildly small and vulnerable next to everyone else. He only barely managed not to gape. 

Why was Jack Spicer, a Freshman, in his Pre-Calculous class?

“Jack?” The teacher approached him with a smile. “You’re Jack, right? I’m Mrs. Peterson. You’re going to sit right back there next to Dashi, okay?”

Mrs. Peterson pointed out the empty seat in front of Guan and next to Dashi. Chase felt a surge of panic. That was way too close. What if they found out about the… About the kiss?

Jack’s nervous eyes scanned the class then widened slightly as they fell on Chase before he looked away. Chase’s ears burned and he quickly yanked his hair down from his ponytail so no one could see then turn red.

Jack wandered down the rows, shoulders hunched. Next to the Juniors, who towered over him, he was a David in a sea of Goliaths. Would they mess with him? Chase hoped not. He didn’t want to have to say something.

Dashi offered Jack a friendly grin as he took a seat.

“Hey, Jack? It was Jack, right?”

“Y-yeah, that’s right…” Jack swallowed, shooting a careful look at Dashi, who only smiled wider. 

“Name’s Dashi. If you have any questions at all, ask me, not any of these knuckleheads.”

Chase and Guan, despite themselves, chorused with a couple of protests. Guan lurched forward to smack Dashi on the back of the head. He ducked, laughing. Jack cracked a shy smile. 

“Oh, great. Is this your advanced class?”

Jack cringed as Wuya stood over his desk, arms akimbo.

“Oh, shit, is this your baby brother, Wuya?” Dashi asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“Ugh. Something like that.”

She retreated back to her own seat. Dashi rolled his eyes.

“Ignore her. If you’re here as a fishy, you worked your ass off.”

“A… Fishy?” Jack asked slowly, frowning.

“Blood in the water?” Guan chipped in. “Fresh meat?”

“A-are those technical terms?”

“You’re a Freshman,” Chase finally blurted out. All three of them turned towards him. His chin rested in his palm as he tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. He sighed at Jack’s wide-eyed stare. “Freshmen are called fishies because you’re in a school… Bottom of the food chain.”

Jack swallowed. The door opened.

All the blood drained from Chase’s face as Hannibal Roy Bean stepped into the classroom.

-oOo-

Jack’s first impression of Hannibal was that he had horrible hair. Rusty red in color, it was hacked short, like it’d been done with a knife instead of scissors. His build was intimidating; tall, stocky. One punch would likely render Jack unconscious. 

The lazy grin put Jack on edge. It was predatory in nature and made his stomach clench.

“Who’s that?” Jack breathed to Guan, whose eyes hardened.

“A shark,” Dashi deadpanned. 

“Hannibal Roy Bean,” Guan muttered back. “I would stay away from him, Jack. Far away.”

Hannibal sauntered down the row, backpack slung over one shoulder. He slumped into the chair behind Wuya, who immediately turned around to fist-bump him.

“Lookin’ sweet, sugar,” he drawled, running a hand over his hair. Wuya simpered.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Bean.”

Dashi mimed gagging, making Guan choke on his Gatorade. Jack snickered quietly into a hand. The grin slid right off his face when he saw Chase’s expression.

Thinly-veiled horror. His clasped hands shook slightly.

“Good to see you, Chase,” Hannibal said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Chase said in a clipped tone, jerking his head in acknowledgement. “You, too.”

Wuya giggled as Hannibal laughed. Chase didn’t look back at them the whole class. 

Jack couldn’t focus on what their teacher was saying. His mind was spinning. Something must’ve happened between Chase and Hannibal. He didn’t know what, but it couldn’t have been good. He made a mental note to follow Guan’s advice… And stay away.

Far away.

-oOo-

Lunchtime. Jack stood by the wall, inwardly screaming because he had no idea where to sit. There were obvious cliques divided table to table and it could only lead to being quite possibly murdered. At the very least, he’d be laughed out of his seat. 

That was when he spotted Chase, Dashi, and Guan. They were sitting against the glass, laughing. Omi, Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo were there, too, smiling and talking amongst themselves. He started to make his way there only to freeze.

What if they didn’t want him there? Ice slipped down through his chest. He clutched his lunch bag just a little tighter. 

Then Chase looked up, seeing Jack through the glass. Golden eyes bore into his very soul. Then, ever so slightly, the corner of his lips twitched up, and he waved.

Jack grinned widely and went to join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins.
> 
> What was your first day of school like this year? Answer in the comments!
> 
> Evermore will be updated on Sunday night (Oct 27th) as opposed to Friday night (Oct 25th). Thank you for your patience.


	5. Building Bridges and Mending Others

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Sorry this one was a week late! I caught an adenovirus and wound up really sick. Not to mention, our school keeps adding new students to my art classes and it's... Stressful.   
Either way, the chapter's finished now. I really like this one, y'all. I hope you enjoy it!

Jack tugged his shirt off. His open locker door half hid his ghostly torso as he quickly changed into the heather gray shirt all the PE students had been given. Weld-Smith Physical Education was emblazoned across the chest in bold blue letters, matching the shorts. He was dreading this class; Jack wasn’t particularly athletic. Well… He could ice skate. But everything else? Not likely.

Unlike calculous, he didn’t know anyone in the gym. They were all in the same boat, ninth graders huddled nervously outside the locker room. Their whispers carried around the cavernous room, floating up into the exposed metal beams. 

A whistle blew, a shrill sound that jolted Jack like a bolt of lightning.

“Alright, Freshmen, line up facing me.”

The coach was a hulking man with bushy sideburns and sweatpants. Sneakers squeaked across the floor as the students scrambled to do as they were told. 

“My name is Coach Connor. You will refer to me as such or just Coach. As soon as you get dressed, you will sit and wait on the bleachers for my further instructions. Are we clear?”

Weak echoes of “yes, Coach” and “yes, Coach Connor” slipped between lips. Coach Connor scowled.

“I said… _Are we clear?!”_ He barked.

“Yes, Coach Connor!” The class responded strongly, a few students wincing. He nodded in approval.

“In order to assess your fitness levels, you will all be running a mile when you come back here on Thursday,” he informed them, watching down the line. “Today we will start with a few basic exercises before you walk that mile.”

A few murmurs and a couple of groans spilled out and the Coach’s eyes flashed. 

“You, you, and you,” he pointed out the three groaners, who froze in anticipation. “Drop and give me 5 push-ups. _Now!”_

They dropped. Jack swallowed. 

When they all hit the deck, the class choked through push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks. Jack was glad when it was time to stretch for the mile. It was something he knew he could do with confidence; flexibility was his forte. Legs spread out wide, he folded his body in half with ease, resting his chest firmly on the floor, earning looks of disbelief and envy from his classmates.

“How are you _doing_ that?”

Jack turned his head towards the gasped question. The student was the heaviest in the class by a long shot, his gym shirt stretched across his wide gut. The black hair was sheered short and the round cheeks were flushed in effort. 

“I did ice-skating as a kid,” Jack explained, lifting his chest and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I was thinking of maybe starting again for the new season.”

“Cool,” the student grunted. “I took karate when I was little but I’ve fallen behind…”

“You could always start again,” Jack advised, leaning forward to grab his heels. “I’m Jack, by the way. Jack Spicer.” 

“Toshiro Mura. You may call me Toshiro.”

“Alright, everyone up!” The coach barked. “Let’s walk that mile!”

-oOo-

As the month wore on, Calculous became Jack’s most, um... Interesting class. Not because of the subject material or even Mrs. Peterson. No… It’s level of intrigue was due to the strange mix of students. The different personalities and cliques clashed magnificently. Even during quiet moments of doing worksheets, the air crackled with anxious energy.

Dashi was a note-passer. He was constantly scribbling on little scraps of paper, slipping them subtly to Guan and Chase. Guan habitually tapped his pencil on the desk, Chase’s leg bounced, and Wuya talked to everyone.

Jack wasn’t at all shocked when Mrs. Peterson assigned his sister a new seat every day, trying to find a place in the room where she wouldn’t talk. No such luck. Eventually, she wound up back at her original seat in front of Hannibal, smirking triumphantly all the way. 

Hannibal was… Another matter entirely. 

Leaning across his desk, he chucked a pen at the back of another student’s head, who turned around to flip him off. He erased parts of the instructions on the board as he walked to his seat. He crumpled his assignments and shot them from his desk into the trashcan. He talked over the teacher, tripped students who walked by, flicked eraser bits across the room…

In short, Hannibal was a hurricane, a chaotic and destructive force of nature. Jack avoided him at all costs.

“Pst, hey, Chase,” Hannibal hissed from his seat. He crushed his equations into a ball, shooting it. It hit the back of Chase’s head. Jack swore he saw Chase’s jaw lock into place. Hannibal smirked widely. “Don’t ignore me, I’m talkin’ to you.”

Chase kept his eyes firmly on his own paper, refusing to engage Hannibal. Jack watched from the corner of his gaze. He couldn’t help but be silently awed by Chase’s guts and determination; it wasn’t easy to ignore Hannibal.

“Hannibal, please step out into the hallway,” Mrs. Peterson interrupted from the front of the room.

“Why?” He sneered at her. Now most of the class was watching, eyes wide as the scene unfolded before them. Mrs. Peterson regarded Hannibal, seemingly unimpressed.

“Because you’re throwing things in my classroom, which you know is unacceptable,” she said cooly. “Now I believe I asked you to leave.” 

“Ugh,” Hannibal groaned, standing and heading to the front of the room. He bumped Chase’s desk with purpose on the way out, earning an immediate scowl from Mrs. Peterson.

“In fact, just walk yourself down to the office. I’ll call Mr. Harris and tell him he should expect you.”

The class collectively winced in sympathy; Mr. Harris was the 6 foot 7 assistant principal that was build like a lineman on an NFL team. He was in charge of discipline at Weld-Smith.

“Tch… Whatever,” Hannibal huffed as he left the room. Jack turned to see the tension draining out of Chase’s shoulders.

“Please continue with your assignment,” Mrs. Peterson told them, heading to her desk. She picked up her phone and dialed the front office. 

Jack flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. Putting pen to paper, he scribbled out a couple of sentences and carefully tore it out, trying not to draw attention to himself. 

_So why do Chase and Hannibal hate eat other? Like, obviously something happened…?_

He folded it into a tiny triangle and held it out behind him. He felt Guan take it.

It took Guan a bit of time to reply. But when he stood to sharpen his pencil, he let the note fall back onto Jack’s desk. He unfolded it.

_Long story short: Hannibal pressure Chase into drugs one time and Chase’s dad found the stash in his room. It wasn’t pretty._

Jack’s stomach plummeted. He chanced a glance at Chase. The teen was leaning against his hand, jotting down a formula then erasing it. Chase had been on drugs? Why?

He stashed the note in his pencil case with the intent of taking it home. Information of this calibre was delicate and Jack knew if he wanted to keep Chase’s friendship, he’d have to keep this secret. 

-oOo-

Chase dropped his backpack on the floor just inside his bedroom door, flopping face-down onto his bed. Never had he been so glad it was a Friday. Unable to turn off his brain just yet, it whirled with weekend assignments, chapters to be read, drama of the day…

He rolled over, pushing his dark hair off his face with a sigh. Maybe he should shower. Wash high school right off his skin. Deciding that was an excellent idea, he sat up, unlacing his high-tops and tugging them off.

Chase sighed under the steady stream of water. It’s warmth seeped under his skin, the stress of the week melting away slowly. He washed his hair leisurely, taking great care with his long tresses.

Only once the bathroom was fully flooded with steam did Chase emerge again, towel secured around his waist. He froze, one hand still on the doorknob.

Jack Spicer was sitting on the living room couch, openly gaping. His smiling mother was sitting with him, obvious the mastermind behind this, and barely batted an eye.

“Chase, sweetheart, your friend stopped by to see you. Go put some clothes on.”

Chase retreated to his room quickly, the heat form the shower not the only reason why he was so flushed. He nearly tripped trying to pull on his sweatpants. Why the hell was Jack in his house?  
When he left his room again, Jack was talking animatedly with his mother. There was a cookie in his hand (freshly baked, by the aroma hanging in the air) and Chase’s mother laughed at his words.

“Well, yes, most high schoolers tend to behave- Oh, Chase, good. Jack (it’s Jack, right?) was wondering if you wanted to hang out. You’re not busy tonight, right?”

Chase scrambled to find words, mind absolutely rolling. 

“I, um- No, I… I have homework…?”

“You can always to it tomorrow,” his mother said with a grin. “It is the weekend, after all.”

Before Chase could fully grasp what was happening, he was on the front porch with Jack, his flop flops in one hand, a cookie in the other. The door closed with finality. His shoulders dropped as he resigned himself to his fate. 

Jack laughed awkwardly.

“Your mom’s really nice!”

“What,” Chase snapped, rounding on Jack with narrowed eyes, “are you doing here?”

The smile slid right off Jack’s face. He swallowed hard, nervously. 

“I-I just…” He stuttered quietly. “I just… Wondered if you wanted- wanted to get a Slurpee? I-if that’s okay with you…?”

Something within Chase snapped horribly. The next moment, he was yelling. 

“You haven’t spoken to me in the past month! I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me!”  
Between schoolwork, fretting over Jack’s behavior, and avoiding Hannibal, Chase’s stress had reached boiling point. Now his complicated emotions were splattering all over the doorstep, creating an absolute mess. Jack hiccuped in surprise, jumping back slightly at Chase’s outburst. Chase hardly noticed, carrying on.

“I told you not to tell anyone about it, and then you-!” 

“I haven’t!” Jack squeaked, going very red. “Chase, I swear! I-I didn’t talk to you because I thought you were mad at m-me!”

Big tears were blossoming in the corners of Jack’s eyes. His lower lip wobbled dangerously as they threatened to spill out and down his cheeks. The anger drained out of Chase fast, his breath escaping him. His own sinuses burned and something rolled deep in his gut that made it impossible to look at Jack. He scratched at the back of his neck.

“I…” 

He struggled to find the proper words.

“I’m…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Jack. Really, I… I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Jack sniffled. Chase looked at him and his heart lurched to see the tears had escaped, dragging glistening streaks down Jack’s cheeks. 

“C-can we just… Get a Slurpee? And forget this ever happened?”

“… Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.”

The first few minutes were walked in total silence. They were only interrupted by Jack’s occasional sniff. Chase felt downright rotten for making him cry. He’d just been so angry… Eventually he cleared his throat.

“Are you enjoying high school so far?”

Jack let out a hollow laugh.

“It’s alright, I guess… I like my classes…”

Jack stuffed his trembling hands in his hoodie pockets, avoiding Chase’s eyes. Chase frowned; something was wrong. That much was obvious. He cleared his throat.

“Just alright? Are you sure?”

Jack nodded jerkily.

“That’s not a very convincing answer, Jack…”

“Well, what do you want me to say?!” Jack burst out. “I’m literally the youngest person in all my classes, everyone’s a head taller than me at least, and my shit keeps going missing!”

“Missing?”

“Yeah, I’m missing like… A pencil case, several highlighters, and m-my English binder.”

“A whole binder?” Chase asked, quirking up an eyebrow as they walked into the 7/11. “How did you miss a whole binder?”

“I don’t know! I turned around for one freaking second and it was just… Gone!”

He broke off to fill up his cup with white cherry Slurpee, huffing. Chase filled his own cup, his stomach aching. He knew this game. He’d played it before. Taking small things, waiting for the victim’s breaking point, watching closely for tears of frustration only to laugh when the moment came.

“Did you see who took them?”

“No…” Jack sighed, taking dejected sip. “If I knew, I would’ve kicked their ass.”

Chase snorted and Jack gave him a sharp look.

“Like you could kick anyone’s ass,” Chase chuckled, paying for the Slurpees. Jack made an offended noise.

“I could!”

“Yeah, right. If you have any trouble, come find me; you have the strength of a limp noodle.” 

Jack swore at a laughing Chase all the way out of 7/11, not even realizing until much later that Chase had paid for his drink.

-oOo-

As much as he enjoyed being in Pre-Calculous with Chase, Jack was finding his homeroom was becoming his favorite class. His spot by the window was always warm, the sun’s rays making it a good way for him to get light without instantly burning. The students in there were relatively chill. There was, of course, that one kid who liked to crack jokes, but other than him? It was peaceful. Even the kids in the back of the class Jack had been wary of on day one weren’t all that bad.

Mostly because their teacher, Mr. Shields, garnered respect from everyone in the classroom.

While Jack wasn’t a huge fan of World Geography in general, he was actually enjoying the class because of Mr. Shields. The teacher wore slacks, button-downs, and ties. When he removed his suit jacket, you knew he was about to tell a story. That was the strange thing about him; he had been seemingly _everywhere,_ from the sparkling turquoise waters off the Mediterranean to the winding Great Wall of China to the kangaroo-filled bush lands of Australia. 

His stories held them all captive on the edges of their seats, hungry for more. As international as the school was, the students hadn’t travelled nearly as much as he did. And his stories were fantastically surreal. 

“My point is, if you go to a foreign country, it’s probably best that you learn basically survival phrases in the local tongue at least. Otherwise you’ll find yourself in the middle of Xi’an in the snow with a fever of 103 where all the medicines are teas and you can’t speak a lick of Chinese.”

Giggles and snorts bounced around the classroom. Mr. Shields was also unafraid to speak of his flaws. In fact, he was the most human teacher Jack had ever encountered and it put the entire class at ease.

Jack opened up his binder and his heart sank. His pencil case was missing, the pretty dark green one. Damn, that’d been his favorite one… He jumped as it was suddenly dropped onto his desk. When his eyes flashed up, he saw the girl with bleached blonde hair who typically sat in front of him (he was pretty sure her name was Ashley), hand on her hip. Her bubblegum formed a perfect bubble and popped.

“Found this in the hallway. Figured you’d want it back.”

“Thanks,” Jack muttered as she slumped sideways in her chair, legs stretched across the aisle. Her hoodie was hot pink with bolded black lettering on it (“On Wednesdays we wear pink”) and her jeans were so tight, Jack could see the bulge of a tube of lip gloss. She tapped away on her sleep iPhone, the case clear and filled with pictures of…

“Are those your cats?”

Ashley paused to check the back of he case and grinned.

“Yeah, I have, like, five kittens,” She boasted. “Daddy’s cat had them this summer and he gave me all five. Mom isn’t too happy but I couldn’t give a shit what she thinks, y’know?”

“What’re their names?”

Jack and Ashley turned their heads in surprise. The girl who normally sat by them, the one with long brown hair, had asked the question. She had never spoken to them before. She hadn’t even spoken aloud in class, only raising her hand slightly to answer the roll-call. Now that Jack thought about it, he’d never really seen her face before, so often it was hidden by her hair. She had sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes and he had the sudden feeling that this was not the type of girl to be messed with. 

“Wait, you actually talk?” Ashley asked with a smirk. “I was under the impression you were mute or something!”

“Dude, don’t be a jerk,” Jack scowled, suddenly very annoyed; he’d been reminded sharply of Wuya. He looked at the brown-haired girl. “Do you like cats?”

The girl, who was seemingly tongue-tied by Ashley’s barbed words, nodded. Jack smiled. 

“Me, too. I’m Jack.”

A small, barely-there smile was returned. 

“Nova.”

“Ugh,” Ashley groaned. “I wish my name were that cool. I’m stuck with like… The most basic name ever.”

It was a verbal olive branch but Jack couldn’t help but tease her just a little. He smirked lightly.

“Did you know Ashley used to be a boy’s name?”

“Shut up!” She snapped as Nova giggled. 

“Alright, you heathens, let’s get started,” Mr. Shields announced from the front of the room. “Open your books to page 156. We’ll start, as we always do, with the chapter’s vocabulary.”

Nova turned to open her textbook to the proper page but not before giving Jack a grateful smile which he returned. He felt like he’d made a friend. 

“Phone away, Ashley,” Mr. Shields reminded her, not even needing to look away from where he was writing on the board. Ashley rolled her eyes but obediently tucked it away in her hoodie pocket. She leaned across the aisle.

“Their names are Snowbell, Fluffy, Marshmallow, Sugar, and Diamond,” she whispered to Nova before turning back in her seat to face the front.

Jack could tell just what Nova thought of those names by the face she made and he smothered his laugh with a cough.

-oOo-

It was lunchtime on Friday and the moment the bell rang, Jack made his way to the gym. That was the time slot for the Kung Fu Klub, spelled with a ‘K’ because the founder favored alliteration. Students liked to watch and gathered on the bleachers with an excited buzz. The members were the type who’d like to throw a punch but were less likely to enjoy getting a straight-up referral to Mr. Harrison’s office. 

Jack’s palms were sweaty. He wiped them quickly on his jeans, eyes never leaving the mat down below. He was sitting at the top of the bleachers, back against the cool wall, away from the rest of the students. A book was lying forgotten beside him. His back molar might’ve cracked from the pressure of grinding down.

Chase was on the mat. And he was kicking ass. 

Specifically Guan’s ass. See, while Guan might’ve been taller and broader, Chase was faster, more fluid in his movements. But Guan was more muscular. If he landed a punch… Chase would most certainly feel it. 

Jack couldn't care less about their methods and styles. He was more focused on the way Chase’s bicep flexed when he extended a punch, the flick at the end of the long ponytail, the light sheen of sweat gleaming on golden skin…

Maybe this was a crush. That realization had a strong blush creeping up into Jack’s cheeks. It probably was. He certainly didn’t look at girls like this… Was he gay? That was also very likely; girls weren’t nearly as fascinating to him. Sure, they were pretty but… 

His mouth went dry as Chase ducked under Guan’s arm and performed a perfect roundhouse kick. Chase was gorgeous. Especially in the school-sanctioned sweatpants and tank top.

Eventually Guan hit the mat and Chase grinned in triumph. He offered his hand to his friend, hoisting him up and laughing. Yanking the elastic, he undid his ponytail and shook his hair out, causing a wave of sighs and squeals to come up from the group of girls not far from Jack. Chase scowled, rolling his eyes as he redid his ponytail. 

His eyes flickered up to the girls. Then he seemed to freeze. Jack swallowed, seizing the book beside him and flipping to a random page. He pretended to be deep into the story when, in reality, he was staring at the word ‘to’, hands shaking. Ice trickled down his spine. Chase had looked right at him.

-oOo-

Jack was looking at him. As he’d been sparring, giving the school an absolute show, Chase had felt the tell-tale prickle on the back of his neck. Instantly, he knew someone was watching him. 

Jack’s eyes darted away and Chase, already sweaty from fighting Guan, broke into a different kind of sweat. Did he mind that he was looking? Not really. In fact, if Chase were honest with himself, he was flattered. Jack had no reason to be here. No one came to a gym full of people to try to read a book.

Somehow, he knew Jack was here for him. And Chase didn’t mind in the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack's making friends! He's also very gay. Chase is so far in denial, he may as well live in Egypt. 
> 
> Nova is not a character in Xiaolin Showdown but I figured it'd be unrealistic to write a high school AU without a couple of OCs. There will be at least one more OC in this story. Neither will play major roles but serve as what will hopefully be a fun subplot. 
> 
> Question for my readers: What do you and your friends do for fun?  
I welcome any and all thoughts! I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> Evermore will be updated for sure by the end of Thanksgiving week. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> -P3ac3fulFor3st


	6. Bullies are Literally the Worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so ready for winter break, I'm practically crawling towards it. I should be able to post the next chapter for Evermore by Christmas. The chapter 7 of this story by the new year. At least, that's the plan.  
Enjoy!

Up until this point, Jack thought he knew what exhaustion felt like. That was before he experienced the full world that was high school homework. The enormous workload on top of the already mentally and physically draining school week almost completely sapped Jack of his will to live.

The moment he got home on Friday, he went over to see Chase. They’d walk to 7/11 for Slurpees. Once they both made it back to the cul-de-sac, they went their separate ways and Jack would hit the books. Once he finished at least two subjects worth of work, he’d call it a night and focus on his hobbies.

Which, of course, included video games, anime, maybe some tinkering around with his mom’s small kitchen appliances… Until roughly four in the morning. Then he’d wake up at noon. Sure, it might’ve been screwing up his entire sleep schedule. But Jack couldn’t care less; having those quiet hours was honestly keeping him sane.

At school, Jack felt like he was slowly losing his mind. It was early October when he opened his Biology binder and almost cried in frustration. His spiral notebook, a pretty purple one, was missing. It had his full-color sketches of plant and animal cells… His notes he couldn’t bring himself to care about. 

A paper ball landed on his desk. He startled, eyes darting up to see if the teacher noticed. She didn’t; her back was turned as she pulled down the projector screen. He heard snickers and he tried to ignore them as he carefully uncrumpled the paper. His stomach sank.

It was a drawing of a ghost. Under it’s left eye was a black hood, on over-exaggerated caricature of his own eyeliner.

_Go back to the graveyard!_

The untidy scrawl blurred. He choked back tears, refusing to cry despite the tremor in his hands. He slid his binder over on top of the note, deciding not to look at it again as he attempted to refocus himself on what the teacher was saying about cellular mitosis.

-oOo-

Chase was leaving English, his thoughts on vocabulary from The Scarlet Letter, when he saw it. Bubba Chen was leaning against a locker, flanked by a couple of his goons. He was flipping through a spiral notebook. A purple spiral notebook with Jack Spicer scribbled on the cover in Sharpie.

“What’s that?” Chase asked. He kept his tone strategically even; he knew Bubba’s nature. 

Bao “Bubba” Chen was an 11th grader that ran an entire underground ring of contraband at the school. This wasn’t really illegal stuff. He dealt in gum, energy drinks, the occasional bottle of aspirin… It was mostly the stuff that could get you in minor trouble at Weld-Smith. A mere slap on the wrist. And while he was a minor threat compared to Hannibal Bean, Bubba was still a serious asshole. 

The younger grades called him Pandabubba. Probably because of the heavy-dark circles under his eyes. It also could’ve been because he was Chinese-American and heavy-set but Chase preferred not to think about how racist that was. So he just referred to him as Bubba. 

Bubba pushed off from the locker, grinning. 

“Some Junior picked it off a fishy in the library,” he barked out a laugh. “This shrimpy wimp with noodle arms.”

Chase only barely managed to keep the sudden surge of rage under his skin. Yes, he himself had told Jack he had the strength of a limp noodle. But for whatever reason, it irritated him to no end to hear Bubba say it. That being said, he had to get Jack’s notebook back. 

“Want me to hide it somewhere?” Chase offered smoothly, holding out his hand. He forced a lazy smirk. “Somewhere high up?”

“You’re a genius, Young,” Bubba chortled. He handed over the notebook and Chase took Jack’s possession with masked tenderness.

He was grateful Athletics was his next class. Tailored for the students involved in a school sport, it was designed to condition them for the season. That particular day, they were running bleachers And Chase needed to blow off some steam.

-oOo-

Jack tapped his pencil against his notebook, chin resting in his palm. His thoughts drifted. Mr. Shields was lecturing on the spread of Buddhism across Asia, his deep timbre unravelling into a soothing background hum.

It’d been raining consistently for a week. Rain was beating down on the pavement outside, running in rivulets down the window. With the rain finally came the chill of autumn. It seeped through the glass and crept under Jack’s hoodie, making him shiver. 

Ashley looked cozy enough. Jack reckoned she had to have at least a dozen different designer sweaters, all fuzzy, to wear with a rotating wardrobe of Lululemon leggings. Today’s ensemble was a pair of magenta leggings with brown ankle boots (Uggs?) and a large white sweater that draped off one shoulder. She’d arrived ten minutes late to class that day, clutching a personalized Starbucks thermos in her French-manicured hand.

“It’s Pumpkin Spice,” she sighed happily to Jack as he opened his mouth to ask. Nova expressed her distaste. Ashley snipped back. 

That was pretty much the norm in their homeroom.

Nova was… An utter mystery to Jack. She, like Jack, preferred jeans and hoodies in lieu of the cold. She barely spoke at more than a whisper. She was always scribbling away in notebooks, secret things that she slammed shut whenever she thought someone might read them.

At the moment, she was asleep. Completely passed out on her crossed arms, hood up over her head. Even though it appeared that she too had given up on the lecture, Jack knew that to be false. Of all the things he knew about Nova, it was that she liked cats, she hated pumpkin spice, and she was smart. Borderline genius smart. Like Jack, she had an A in the class. The only one with a grader higher than him. 

She hadn’t given up. She was bored to tears. Jack could relate. 

“How come she gets to sleep through class?” Ashley hissed to Jack, gesturing to Nova. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Maybe because she’s got an ‘A’,” Jack mumbled. “And you’ve got… What? A ‘D’?”

“A ‘C’,” Ashley corrected, eyes narrowing. “That’s still passing.”

“Still… That’s kinda sad.”

“Psh… I guess that’s how it goes,” Ashley sniffed, slouching in her chair. “Some of us get beauty, others get brains.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Um, hello? Have you seen the way she dresses? Sheesh, the girl could at least try to wear things that fit.”

Now, Jack wasn’t the most tactful person on the face of the planet. But he at least knew what lines not to cross. After being dragged to events with his parents, he knew there were two types of rich people. The first were the types to recognize their privilege and share their privilege with the world. These were usually big-name celebrities. The second we’re the types who lavished in their luxury and sneered down their pompous noses at anyone with less than them. 

Ashley was most definitely the latter. She came to school flashing around the latest iPhone, bringing things like sushi in a bento box and spring water in a glass bottle.

Nova’s jeans were ripped, her hoodie too big for her small frame, tennis shoes falling apart. Jack knew she didn’t have much.

He knew Ashley could be a bitch. But he didn’t knew she could be so frigid.

“Shut the fuck up, Ashley!”

“Jack Spicer!”

Jack sat straight up, finding Mr. Shields looking at him. There was a frown on his face and Jack’s stomach plummeted. 

“Sir?”

“Those who have to use profanity to get their point across have a lack of decent vocabulary.”

The class was so quiet, so wrought with tension, it could’ve been cut with a knife. Jack swallowed.

“I don’t want to hear that again.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Jack supposed he was fortunate to get off with a mild scolding. While it was utterly embarrassing to be called out in front of the entire class, it beat getting sent to the office. He couldn’t bring himself to regret his words, thought.

The bell rang. Everyone vacated the room. As he was leaving, Jack felt a soft tug on his sleeve. He paused, turning to see Nova hugging her books to her chest. 

“Th-th…”

Jack shrugged as she struggled to get the words out.

“Don’t let Ashely get to you,” he said with a half-smile. “She’s an idiot.”

Nova nodded, still not saying a word. Jack, who considered her a friend by this point in the semester, floundered, trying to think of a way to cheer her up.

“Hey, um… My sister’s throwing this stupid Halloween party at our house on… Well, on Halloween. Wanna come?”

Nova’s eyes went wide.

“You’re inviting me?”

Jack grinned.

“Yeah! It’ll be dull without someone I can talk to!”

“Um, okay… How do I…? Where do you-?”  
“Oh! Here!”

Jack fished a pen and a loose scrap of paper out of his binder, scribbling down his number. He held it out to Nova who took it slowly. 

“Just text me. I’ll make sure you get the info.”

“Thanks…”

They went their separate ways once reaching the hall. Jack suddenly realized he’d forgotten something. He spun on the spot.

“By the way,” he called to her. She paused and turned to look at him. “I love your hoodie!”

She blinked in surprise before grinning widely. Giving him a thumbs-up, she went to her next class, the title of Jack’s favorite anime emblazoned across the back of her hoodie. 

-oOo-

Jack was beyond excited. This was the first year he was allowed to be at the Halloween party. Before this year, Wuya always sent him off to go trick-r-treating with friends before staying at one of their houses for the night. But now? Now he was part of the planning. Being in high school really had its perks. 

“I guess you’re old enough,” Wuya said with a shrug, handing Jack orange and black streamers. “But at least make yourself useful. Put these up.”

What else could Jack do but just that? He draped the streamers all across the living room ceiling, stretching them this way and that as Wuya put together a playlist on her iPhone. She’d rigged up speakers all over the house, borrowing from Jack and her own friends. There were chips and dips, candies and cookies spread out on the coffee table, a couple of coolers full of drinks in the kitchen. One was filled with things like Coke and Sprite while the other… 

Jack had no clue how Wuya had managed to get ahold of Smirnoffs and Bacardis but he suspected Hannibal might’ve had something to do with it. He’d shown up at the house after school (Jack listened incognito from the hallway), offering his apology that he wouldn’t be at the party and giving Wuya something he’d hoped would make up for his absence. Personally, Jack figured alcohol was a pretty damn good pacifier. 

The first few guests arrived at around 8 PM. Just a few people. Five became twenty which became fifty. Pretty soon it felt like the entire school was there. Or, at the very least, the whole of the Junior class.

By the time Nova arrived, decked out in a gorgeous witch costume, the party was in full swing. Music blasted from the speakers as teenagers danced and laughed and drank as much as they possible could, the lights low enough to allow for rather questionable things. Jack could tell just by a glance that Nova was wildly uncomfortable being here.

“Here,” he told her over the noise. He pushed a red solo cup into her hand. “Have a drink.”

“Is this alcohol?” She asked nervously, peering into the depths of the cup. Jack laughed.

“It’s just Coke.”

They sipped on their sodas, hovering in a corner as the party raged. It really wasn’t all that fun, Jack couldn’t help but admit to himself. He winced in sympathy as a teenager stumbled past them to throw up on the front lawn. Yeah. Not fun at all. He half-turned to Nova.

“Wanna just go up to my room?”

Apparently, that hadn’t been the right thing to say because Nova went ashen. She visibly shook.

“N-n… I don’t… I don’t want…!”

“Oh! Oh, God, no, no I didn’t mean that!” Jack squeaked, going very red. “I mean, I… I’m gay!”

He blurted it out before he’d even known it himself. But coming out of his mouth? It felt accurate. Nova stared at him. He swallowed. 

“Yeah. I’m gay. I’m sorry.”

“I… You’re gay,” She restated and Jack nodded miserably, staring down into the swirling bubbles in his Sprite. “For Chase Young.”

He looked at her sharply.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s obvious,” She shrugged, taking a sip of her Coke. “You doodle his name in your notebook with little hearts all around it. I mean… It doesn’t get more gay than that.”

She looked at him. Something in her typically sharp eyes softened slightly as she took in the way Jack’s cup shook in his hands.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks, I’m not… Ready… To be out yet.”

“Jack, get in here!” Wuya yelled from the kitchen. Jack’s eyebrows shot up and he gave Nova an apologetic look. She smiled and shook her head.

“Go. Appease the witch. I’ll be right here.”

-oOo-

Harriet Robins’ heart thudded against her rib cage. How she got invited along to this Halloween party was beyond her. It seemed like a cool idea at the time to accept the invitation; she desperately needed friends since she was new to Weld-Smith and all. But now that she was actually here?

She stepped out of the way of a group of drunken yelling Juniors as they made their way outside and moved around a dancing couple. This was chaos.

Her anxiety was mounting. She needed to ground herself somehow. Avoiding the snack table, she slipped down the hall and into the bathroom. She locked the door and splashed cold water on her face, grateful for the existence of water-proof make-up. After finally steadying her breath, she rejoined the fray, fulling intending to just leave the party. 

The party was a mass of frenzied movement everywhere Harriet looked. That’s probably why, when she saw a girl in the corner of the room, holding a cup and standing perfectly still, she felt drawn to her. Swallowing, she gathered every ounce of courage she had and approached her.

-oOo-

Jack hadn’t returned. Nova was only slightly surprised by this but it was overwhelmed by how stupid she felt. Of course, Jack was gay. She couldn’t believe she thought he was hitting on her. And now she was alone again at a party where she knew only one person.

Maybe she should just go home.

“Hi! I really like your dress!”

Nova startled, turning to look at the girl who’d addressed her.

She was short with wide hips and a wider smile. While she wasn’t wearing a costume like 80% of the party-goers, she was dressed in black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved orange and black striped shirt. Her wild curly hair created a golden brown halo down to her shoulders. 

“Oh, um, thanks…”

“Where’d you get it?”

“M-my mom made it.”

Nova’s mom had been making her Halloween costumes for years. And like many years prior, Nova had wanted to be a witch this year. The dress was made of layers of sheer black and purple fabric, the top layer velvet. The sleeves were wide and the hems trimmed with lace.

The girl grinned.

“That’s so cool! I wish I could make a costume for myself. Hey, it’s like… Really loud in here. Do you wanna go outside?”

Typically, Nova wouldn’t trust someone she just met. But this girl… There was a buzz of energy about her. She radiate sincerity. Nova nodded, unable to help following her.

“I’m Harriet, by the way!”

“Nova.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so pretty!”

Nova smiled to herself, following Nova out of the house.

When Jack finally found them later, her and Harriet had been sitting on the curb, talking for an hour.

“Hello?” Jack said slowly. Nova turned to see him standing there holding a bag of Lays. She smiled at him to show that she didn’t hold his absence against him. 

“Where’ve you been?

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugged, taking a seat on the other side of Nova on the curb. “Older sisters and all that… Wuya needed help cleaning up a spill. Um.. I don’t know you.”

Harriet grinned, holding out her hand. 

“Harriet Robins,” she introduced herself as Jack shook her hand. “Is this your party?”

“Nah, my sister’s. I’m Jack. Are you new at Weld-Smith?”

“Yeah, we just moved here from Australia.”

“Wait, are you Australian?” Nova had to ask. She hadn't heard an accent but... Harriet shook her head, still smiling.

“Nope, I’m American. Dad’s job moved us there but it’s good to be back.”

“How long were you there?”

“Two years.”

And so it went. Jack found himself enjoying the evening, sharing the Lays with Nova and Harriet. The noise of the party and the muffled music offered a comfortable atmosphere, sitting under a full moon. For the first time in a long time, Jack felt like he actually had friends. 

-oOo-

Chase showed up sometime around 11 PM. He dodged several people, scowling at a couple making out against a wall, before slipping down the hall towards Jack’s room. He was here for one reason and one reason only. 

Closing the door behind himself, he paused to take in the room. It was your typical boy’s room except… Not. There were movie and video game posters on the walls but the desk was littered with bits and pieces of what was once a blender by the looks of it. The bed was a mess of tangled blankets but the bedside table was stacked high with advanced textbooks.

Chase smiled privately. He examined the purple spiral notebook in his hands one last time before placing it carefully among the textbooks. Right where Jack could find it. Hopefully, he’d think he just misplaced it as opposed to being stolen.

When he exited Jack’s room, Chase had all intentions of simply going home and getting a proper night’s worth of sleep. However, at that moment, someone stumbled into him.

“Oh, hey Chaaase!”

It was Wuya. And she was completely drunk. Her black dress was cinched at the waist with a sash, accentuating her curves. She giggled, leaning against the wall in a bad attempt to appear casual. Chase rolled his eyes, trying to step around her but she blocked his way.

“I’ve been looking for you!”

“I’m not staying, Wuya, go away.”

“Awww but,” she swayed on the spot. “But I really want you… Here…”

She reached out, grabbing hold of his shirt as she stumbled. 

“Easy,” Chase grunted, hands going to her waist to hold her upright. He might not have liked her, but he was at least a gentleman. 

Then something happened that he didn’t account for. Wuya tilted her head up and before Chase knew it, she was kissing him. It was feverish, desperate, and Chase automatically recoiled. He shoved her away.

“Get off me!”

“Awww, but Chase, we’d be so perfect together,” she insisted, her words slurring. Chase’s eyes narrowed.

“Absolutely not. You’re vain, obnoxious… Honestly, Wuya, I can’t stand you. Stay away from me. Besides, aren’t you with Hannibal?”

“He doesn’t need to know, handsome…”

He side-stepped her again, this time raising an eyebrow when she stumbled and fell to the floor, laughing in a drunken heap.

“I’d rather not tangle with him. Go to bed, Wuya. You’re a wreck.”

But Wuya didn’t hear him. She’d passed out, right there on the floor. Chase gave the living room a cursory glance where the party carried on without its hostess. He couldn’t just leave her there. With a sigh, he bent down and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He perused the hallway and opened up the door that had peeling purple stickers on the doorframe from a time long ago.

Chase blinked. This couldn’t be Wuya Spicer’s room. 

The walls were lilac. Up on a shelf were several stuffed animals and a couple of books. A giant black beanbag in the corner had a multi-colored throw blanket tossed over it and beside it on a crate full of vinyls was a floral record player. 

Chase shook his head, laying Wuya down on her purple and white quilt. She hummed and rolled over onto her side. Before leaving, he took a moment to look around the room again. He supposed… They all had their secrets. 

Before closing the door, he locked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to point it out... Yes, Chase was worried about Wuya being sexually assaulted. And in this fic, Chase would be the type of person to foresee and prevent that.  
Y'all have now been introduced to my other OC Harriet. Her role will be vital later...  
I hope you guys liked this chapter! Leave me a review and a kudos if you enjoyed it!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st


	7. Hannibal's Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this uploaded. I feel like my priorities have changed. Since I'm focusing a lot more on my career, I don't have as much time to write anymore. Don't worry; I still plan on continuing and eventually finishing this story. Just don't be surprised if updating takes a lot longer than it used to.  
Without further ado... Chapter 7.

When he woke up the morning after the party, Jack pulled on his favorite hoodie (black with a red spray-painted spider on the front), grinning ear to ear. He sprinted past a very hungover Wuya in the hallway who screeched at almost being run over.

“Watch where you’re going, freak!”

“Kiss my ass!” Jack hollered back as he tore out the front door.

Only to freeze in the middle of the street at the scene laid out before him. Kimiko, Clay, and Omi were all sparring… Raimundo? At least, Jack thought it might be Raimundo. He was covered head-to-toe in every Shen-Gong-Wu they had ever made so he was hardly recognizable. 

“Raimundo, you have made a horrible mistake!” Omi was shouting, jumping out of the way of Raimundo’s (rather sluggish) punch. “You know better than to use the Shen-Gong-Wu at this time!”

“What’s going on?” Jack asked Kimiko as he stepped up beside her, utterly bewildered. 

“Rai’s our villain today,” she explained, dodging a stream of silly string. “He used Shen Gong Wu during the Heylin Comet and so they’ve attached themselves to his body so they can take over the world.”

Heylin? What? Jack hadn’t heard that term before… He guessed he’d been so busy with school, they’d invented things in his absence. Still, he saw them at lunch almost every day. Why hadn’t they included him in their world building? 

“But I thought I was your villain…?” Jack said slowly, a question in his tone.

“Sorry, partner,” Clay apologized, shrugging as he ducked Raimundo’s kick. “Your robots are cool and all, they’re just—”

“It’s gotten old, dude,” Raimundo chipped in. He removed the Helmet of Jong (which was really just a repurposed and painted football helmet) to shake out his hair. “We’re looking for more interesting Heylins now but you’re always like, ‘jackbots, attack’ and all that.”

So Heylins were villains. Jack made a mental note, struggling to wrap his head around it.

“But also,” Omi piped up. “Isn’t high school a bit busy for our games? My su baba says grades need to be in top-tip shape!”

“Um, tip-top shape.”

“That, too!”

“Wait, so… You guys don’t want me to play anymore?”

“Now, we ain’t saying that, Spicer—”

“Sure sounds that way,” Jack said with a scowl. If he didn’t scowl, he’d cry. And he didn’t want that.

Deciding he’d heard enough, he spun on his heel and walked back home to retrieve his bike. He ignored the sounds of their game continuing, kicked off, and pedaled towards the 7/11.

His thoughts were a whirlwind. At this point, did he have any close friends? Did Chase even count, as cool as he was? He knew Ashley didn’t care for him… Did Toshiro and Nova actually like him? Between his stuff going missing and sitting silence in the lunch group…

By the time he got to 7/11, tears were streaming down his face. The bell chimed as he walked in. Just as he’d suspected, Chase and Guan were sitting at one of the tables, laughing over… Coffee? Maybe? He wasn’t sure but it was steaming.

He passed by them quickly, head down. Even if Chase had seen him cry (now multiple times), it didn’t mean he wanted him to see this time. He grabbed a watermelon Arizona and a bag of hot Cheetos with lime. It took all his willpower not to look at Chase, sniffling as he wiped his nose on his hoodie sleeve.

But just as he was about to leave again, Chase called out to him.

“Jack?”

There was worry coloring his voice and Jack inhaled sharply, pushing the door open and stepping back into the cool air. He hurried to his bike and swung his leg over. He kicked off, not looking back even as he heard the 7/11 door open.

He’d forgotten how athletic Chase was. Suddenly, he was in front of him, grabbing Jack’s handlebars and leaning on them.

“Jack, wait a minute!”

Jack stopped pedaling, bowing his head and succumbing to sobs. He wanted to disappear. Why was Chase trying? He was a nobody at school and a nobody at home. Wuya hated him. His own parents were never around. 

“What happened?”

A hand rested carefully on Jack’s shoulder and the warmth seeping in through his hoodie was enough to break him. He scrambled off his bike, dropping his bag and slamming into Chase with the force of a truck.

A soft ‘oof’ escaped him before he wrapped his arms around Jack, a shelter from the cold wind. He rested his cheek atop his head and finally, Jack breathed easier.

-oOo-

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

Jack’s jaw dropped, accidentally dropping his sugar packet into his coffee and cursing profusely himself. Chase was sure the kid had never heard Guan cuss before. But there he was, sitting with him and Jack with an angry scowl on his face.

Chase himself was quite pissed. Jack had just finished telling them what transpired in the cul-de-sac earlier that day. Once again. those little pests had gone a bit too far. He had to retaliate. He had to do something, anything to make them pay.

But by the look on Guan’s face, his friend already had an idea. He raised an eyebrow.

“You have something in mind, don’t you?”

Guan took a sip of coffee. 

“You could say that,” he said delicately. “Do you remember the time Dashi brought a slingshot to school in 6th grade?”

“I’ll never forget it,” Chase muttered, taking a deep sip of his own coffee.

“What happened?” Jack asked, leaning forward curiously. Guan chuckled.

“Dashi shot at least five students in every class plus two teachers.”

“W-wouldn’t that hurt?”

“He used wet marshmallows,” Chase elaborated with a sigh. “Dashi doesn’t fancy hurting anyone but he certainly has no issue being a little shit.”

“Wait… Did they stick?,” Jack asked. Guan laughed loudly as Chase scowled.

“You’re darn right, they stick! It took Chase several washes to get it out!”

“He shot you?” Jack gasped, looking at Chase with wide eyes. Chase scowled even deeper. 

“Right in the back of the head…” Chase muttered darkly. But he allowed himself a small smile as Jack cackled, obviously unable to help himself. He looked back to Guan. “Why do you bring it up?”

“Well…”

-oOo-

The sun rose on Sunday morning and Jack was wide awake. If that wasn’t strange enough, he was also perched in a large oak tree with a bag of marshmallows between his legs and a slingshot in his hand, paint streaked across his face. The tree was in Omi’s yard. He knew Clay, Kimiko, and Raimundo stayed the night with Omi; they habitually had sleepovers on Saturday nights. It was the perfect place for an ambush.

Jack knew he’d eventually get his revenge. He always did. But he hadn’t expected Chase, Guan, and Dashi to join him. So there they were, three members of the high school Kung Fu Klub and Jack wearing camouflage up in a tree.

Armed and ready.

“You’re sure it was Omi’s turn to host?” Chase asked in a hushed tone.

“Absolutely,” Dashi confirmed. “Love the kid, he just can’t keep his mouth shut.”

Guan elbowed him in the ribs, nodding at the house. They all fell silent, turning to see the front door open with a soft squeak. Omi stepped out onto the porch, yawning wildly and stretching so he rose up onto his tippy-toes. Jack, smirking, raised his sling-shot, taking careful aim. He pulled back the elastic…

_THOCK!_

Omi yelped, jumping back when the marshmallow hit him square in the forehead. He rubbed the spot, picking up the marshmallow, looking utterly bewildered. Then he looked up and saw bright red hair in a nearby tree before he was pelted with three more marshmallows, one of which was soaking wet. It stuck to his shirt and he made a noise of disgust before darting back inside, slamming the door.

Jack cackled and would’ve fallen out of the tree if Chase hadn’t grabbed his arm, also smirking widely. 

“Look,” he said, gesturing to the door. It had opened again.

“He’s up there! In the tree!” Omi was saying, pointing where he’d seen Jack. Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo all looked up…

Before getting pelted by marshmallows themselves. 

“Ewww!” Kimiko groaned as a wet one stuck to her neck. She scrubbed at it, repeating ‘ew, ew, ew’ as she retreated back inside.

“Well, we lost Kimiko,” Raimundo commented as he scowled at the marshmallow stuck to his shirt. Clay brushed off the one that hit him, also frowning. 

“Now, what no-good—“

_THOCK!_

“Oh, now that’s just wrong,” he groaned, wincing as the wet marshmallow slid off his face.

“That is most disgusting,” Omi said with a wince.

“You’re not supposed to put them in your mouth, you freak!” Raimundo hollered at the tree. Three marshmallows hit him in quick succession, finally forcing him back inside. “I’m done!”

“Reckon I’m done, too.”

Omi, as his friends escaped back inside, narrowed his eyes at the tree. 

“You cannot fool me, Chase Young,” he called, pointing. “I know you are up there with Spicer!”

A marshmallow hit him between the eyes and he sighed. He, too, went back inside, knowing when he was outnumbered.

Up in the tree, the four exchanged high-fives, feeling victorious in the best way.

When all was said and done, they had spent most of the morning pelting Omi, Kimiko, Clay, and Raimundo with marshmallows every time they tried to leave the house. Eventually, as it usually does, hunger won out and Guan suggested they call the harmless assault a success. Back at Chase’s house, they ordered a pizza. The rest of the day was spent playing video games and yelling at each other in Chinese, laughing when Jack butchered the pronunciation.

Later that night, Jack returned to his room. His cheeks hurt from grinning so much. He hadn’t had a day that good in… Well, it was hard to say.

He flopped down on his back, smiling at the ceiling, arms behind his head. He felt lucky. Guan, Dashi, and Chase were at least two years older than him and popular to boot. Jack stuck out like a sore thumb. They were all athletic and cool. Jack was… Not.

But at the moment, he was okay with that.

Jack rolled over to retrieve a book from the stack on his nightstand. He paused. Then he frowned. There was a spiral of wire among the book spines. With an easy tug, he pulled it from the stack, eyes widening. He sat up. In his hands was his biology spiral, the pretty purple one! He stared at it, at his name scrawled across the cover. Had it been here the whole time? He thought for sure somebody had…?

He opened it, scrutinizing the pages. It looked… Not damaged. But definitely scuffed. Maybe he’d simply misplaced it? Stuffed it in his backpack an forgot about it? He couldn’t remember.

A loose piece of paper caught his eye. He pulled it free from the spiral and he blinked. It was a flyer for Weld-Smith’s Art Association, the school’s art club for elementary students all the way up to high school students. How had this…? He hadn’t picked one of these up!

Now he knew for certain. Someone had definitely stolen it. Which meant… Someone had to have been in his room.

He scrambled off the bed, stumbling out into the hallway. 

“Wuyaaa!”

“Oh, my God, what?” Wuya snapped, slamming her comb back onto her dresser, hair wet from her shower. She glared at Jack from where he stood in the hallway. He dared not step inside her room lest he get his ass handed to him. 

“W-were you in my room?”

“Why the fuck would I go into your room? It reeks in there.”

“Does not!”

“Does to!”

“Ugh, nevermind!”

Jack retreated to his room, slamming the door and leaning against it. His head was spinning. So it wasn’t Wuya. It could’ve been at the Halloween party the night before. Jack shuddered. He had to have a lock put in…

He couldn’t help but examine the Art Association flyer. Maybe the person who returned his notebook was a member. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out. 

-oOo-

Wuya went to school on Monday still fuming from the party. She’d been so drunk, she hadn’t even been able to enjoy the kiss she stole from Chase Young, the pretty long-haired devil. It was aggravating, infuriating…

She stalked into the library, slamming her books down on the table. Hannibal, who was watching something on his phone with his feet up on the surface, gave her a dry look.

“Trouble in paradise, darlin’?”

“Your plan didn’t work, babe,” Wuya groaned as she slumped in the chair across from him. “I kissed him and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Hannibal grunted.

“So he doesn’t like you,” he mused, stashing his phone. “And here I thought he consistently told you to fuck off ‘cause he had a big ole crush.”

“Oh, can it,” she grumbled, arms crossed, propping her own feet up. “He wasn’t even phased. If anything, he was completely turned off.”

“Worst things have happened, I’m sure,” Hannibal said delicately. He was now using the edge of his desk to sharpen his knife, a trusty little thing that fit in his pocket and came in excellent handy in a tight spot.

“Are you kidding? Look, I’m sexy as hell. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that diva was gay. I mean, have you _seen_ his hair?”

Hannibal snorted, grinning nastily.

“Wouldn’t surprise me; if anyone in this dump was a fairy, it would be Young.”

“If he’s not, my kid brother definitely is. The way he stumbles after Chase like some sort of lost puppy from a Hallmark special, ugh… It makes me sick.”

“Really now?” Hannibal drawled, cocking his eyebrow. “And just what would your brother see in someone like Young?”

“Hell if I know. Once Jack sets his mind on something, he has to have it. Chase must’ve eventually gotten sick of how pathetic it all was and started tolerating him.”

Hannibal barked out a harsh laugh.

“Chase Young doesn’t tolerate anyone. He’s a serious asshole.”  
“Yeah, well… Not to Jack apparently,” Wuya sighed, checking her nails for chipped polish. “They spent all summer together.”

“Did they now…?”

She gave him a sharp look; Wuya knew that tone. Sure enough, Hannibal was looking off into space, preoccupied by something floating around in that mind, spinning his knife between his fingers.

“Got an idea?”

“Y’know, yeah. I think I may have found our leverage.”

-oOo-

It happened after school. Chase was walking home. He did that sometimes, just to clear his head, usually after a particularly hard day. Today was a bit different. Today there’d be a geography test he knew he’d done well on. So there was this air of content around him as he walked. Weld-Smith was only about a forty-five minute walk to the 7/11 where he’d pick up something to snack on to make the last fifteen minutes home.

His mother would be at work til 7 PM. So it wasn’t like he’d be missed.

When he turned the corner off the school’s road, he hit something rather large. Not something, someone. Chase shoved Hannibal back, shifting into a fighting stance, hands up. He kicked out. Hannibal grabbed his ankle and pulled, Chase yelping as he lost his footing. Hannibal’s fists found his shirt front.

“Well, hey there,” he drawled. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

“Get off me, you-!”

“Listen closely, Young.”

Chase gasped as his feet left the ground, back slammed against the brick wall. His head smacked up against it. Stars burst in his vision. He’d forgotten how strong Hannibal was. Because, while he wasn’t in the Kung Fu Klub, he used to be the best wrestler at Weld-Smith… Until he was benched for having low grades. Then kicked out for being unnecessarily aggressive. Chase grabbed at his fists, trying to pry them off his shirt.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Go drown in a river, Bean,” Chase snarled, teeth bared. “I’m done with Lao Mang Lone and I’m done with you.”

Hannibal laughed.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t do anything to protect that sweet piece of ass that follows you around from sun-up to sun-down?”

Ice slipped down Chase’s spine, pooling in his stomach.

“I don’t know who you mean.”

“Bullshit!” Hannibal growled, pulling Chase off the wall and thrusting him back against it for good measure. Chase’s head hit the wall again, this time drawing a grunt of pain. “That jailbait with the red hair, Wuya’s kid brother. I see the way you look at him, you’re disgusting—“

“Y-you’re wrong!”

But Chase’s stutter gave him away. Hannibal’s lips curled into a grin.

“Am I? He’s small, flexible, probably hiding a lot under those hoodies… I wouldn’t mind taking him to my bed and turning him into the best little fuck-toy at Weld-Smith—“

_“Shut your fucking mouth!”_ Chase screamed, clawing at Hannibal’s hands, his rage and panic so involuntary, it frightened him. “If you so much as place one fucking finger on him, I’ll- I’ll-!”

“What? You’ll what?” Hannibal sneered. He flung Chase away and he hit the ground hard. “Have I got your attention, Young? If you want Spicer protected, you better crawl back and start panning out again. Or else that little tart might find his way into my bed.”

With that, Hannibal turned on his heel and left, disappearing around the corner. Chase’s chest heaved as he panted, heart hammering. Then he scrambled to his feet.

Jack.

He ran the rest of the way home. When he made it to the cul-de-sac, his eyes immediately fell on Jack’s bright red hair. He was sitting on the curb… With Wuya.

He froze in the middle of the street. Of course. That’s where Bean got his information. That’s how he knew Jack hung around Chase even thought they were only in one class together. And as long as he continued to hang around Chase…

Jack would be at risk.

Jack looked up as Chase’s front door slammed shut.

-oOo-

After a couple of weeks of pure agonizing, Jack finally managed to work up the guts to visit the Art Association. The very idea of running into the kind soul that returned his notebook make his knees shake with something he couldn’t quite describe. His stomach also reacted to the idea. He decided to call that nausea. 

During homeroom, while they were all supposed to be reading act 2, scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet, Jack wrote a note. Folding it into a little triangle, he flicked it expertly to land right on Nova’s copy of the play. She startled slightly, turning to see where the note had come from. Jack mimed she should open it. He was lucky Mr. Shields turned a blind eye to note-passing, who indeed saw Jack passing the note but only shook his head before going back to grading. 

Nova carefully unfolded it. 

_I wanna check out the Art Association during lunch. Wanna come?_

She frowned and scribbled, handing the note back.

_But I can’t draw…_

Jack hesitated before writing his response.

_I don’t wanna go alone. Please?_

She looked back at Jack to catch his eye. She gave him a thumbs-up.

So when the bell rang for lunch, Jack and Nova made their way down to the art room instead of the cafeteria. It was way down the opposite end of the school where all the electives were. Jack smacked the computer lab sign for good luck as they passed; that’s where he had his beginner’s coding class. They also passed the band room where Nova’s flute was safely tucked away in a locker.

The last room on the right had a sign shaped like a messy artist’s pallet and bore the name ‘Ms. Parker’. The door was propped open, the sound of music flowing out of it. Jack and Nova exchanged nervous looks before walking in together.

Before them was a room in visual chaos. Jack blinked several times before he could properly process it. Pain flecks colored the tables, the floors, the counters… Every cabinet was labeled with different art supplies. The tables were high with stools, easels lining the room. And at the back, there were motorized tables for throwing clay.

Despite the messy room, the atmosphere was very calm. There were maybe five students present along with the teacher. Ms. Parker, a short redheaded woman, seemed to be organizing the papers on her desk while her students worked. Two of them we’re talking and laughing quietly while they sketched the potted plant in front of them, another sat painting at an easel, while another two worked on small clay pots at the back of the room.

“Damn…” The girl throwing clay muttered under her breath. She leaned back and sighed, hands covered in wet clay, her black apron splattered with it. Her golden brown curls, which were pulled back into a haphazard ponytail, refused to stay captured, a few ringlets escaping. She blew one of them out of her face. She looked to the other student throwing a clay pot that was looking far better than her own. “David, I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

“No, you are,” he assured her, moving his hands expertly along the edges of his pot. “You just lack patience.”

“Thanks…” She turned her head. Then she blinked. “Nova? Jack?”

“Harriet?” Jack asked, baffled.

Sure enough, it was Harriet. She grinned and pushed back from the throwing table, pausing to wash her hands at the sink.

“What’re y’all doing here?”

“We go to school here!” Jack said incredulously. Nova snorted.

“I believe she meant here as in the art room, Jack.”

“Oh! Uh…”

And then he proceeded to tell Harriet and Nova all about his purple Biology notebook, about how he was sure it was gone and how it turned up in his room with an Art Association flying tucked inside it.

“A mystery,” Harriet hummed with a smile. “Well, unfortunately, I was the only one here that went to your house on Halloween besides Nova. Why don’t you stay for today?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Nova said with a shrug. “It’s quieter here than the cafeteria.”

“Oh, but I…” Jack trailed off. 

He’d been thinking of how he typically sat with Chase, Guan, and Dashi but… For the past week, Chase hadn’t been sitting with them. As a matter of fact, for the past week every time he’d seen him, Chase would turn and walk away, ducking into another hallway or classroom. Like he was avoiding Jack.

Well, Jack thought, setting his jaw. Two could play that game.

“You know what? Yeah,” he said finally. “Let’s stay.”

And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has Hannibal got Chase under his thumb? Will Jack ever figure out who returned his notebook? Are the monks going to continue leaving Jack out of future Xiaolin Showdown plans?  
Next story to update will be Evermore. Until next time!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st


	8. Silver Linings and Dire Warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's about dang time, isn't it? I have about 5 more chapters to add to this story before I wrap it up. I plan to spend far more time on Evermore :D Enjoy!

Jack rapped his pencil lightly against his textbook in a soothing steady rhythm, cheek resting against his palm. He could hear the soft vibration of his music, the earbud concealed by his hoodie sleeve and the teacher’s obliviousness. 

He stole a glance at Mrs. Peterson. She was pre-occupied beautifully by the pile of papers she was grading at her desk. They always did bookwork on Thursdays. She didn’t mind them talking, though, just as long as they were quiet. It was beyond Jack’s comprehension what she could possibly have against phones and headphones. 

He contemplated the equation under his pencil. It was difficult. The entire class was difficult, more so than what he’d thought it was going to be. Which was good, he told himself. He liked a challenge. He needed to be challenged. Challenges were satisfying.

At least it would be satisfying, he thought sourly, if his mind didn’t keep drifting. He turned to glance at Chase for the umpteenth time. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. Wuya was giggling as he talked to her under his breath, leaning on his arms towards her, a slight smirk gracing his lips. Jack couldn’t fathom it; one moment he was sure Chase loathed Wuya. The next… They seemed to be dating.

Something like butterflies erupted in Jack’s stomach when Chase laughed softly and he forced himself to look away. He’d all but accepted that he was crushing hard on Chase. And now this. Dating his sister. How embarrassing.

Someone tapped Jack on the shoulder and he half-turned.

“When did they start dating?” Guan hissed to him. Jack shrugged.

“Beats me,” Jack whispered back. “I didn’t think Chase even liked her.”

“He doesn’t,” Guan confirmed with a scowl. “This is weird. Chase would never stoop so low. No offense.”

“None taken. She’s a heinous bitch.”

Then Jack did a double-take; Chase had leaned across the aisle to give Wuya a lingering kiss. The butterflies in his stomach burst into writhing flames. Then they went very cold. 

“Chase, could you not?” Dashi grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “That is disgusting.” 

“If you don’t like it,” Chase drawled, “don’t watch.”

“Get a damn room.”

“Quiet!”

The class went silent at Mrs. Peterson’s warning. Chase sighed and turned back to his open textbook, Dashi rolling his eyes. Wuya blew a bubble with her gum. Hannibal didn’t budge. He was fast asleep at his desk, jacket balled up under his head.

When he was awake, he made the entire class a living hell. So no one disturbed him. No one dared. It was like he made a goal to get kicked out of class and he achieved it almost daily. Who knew what the hell he did outside of class?

Well. Everyone knew what he did. Drugs, obviously. Unfortunately, despite the wide-spread knowledge that he was on Lao Mang Lone, every time someone reported him, school admin couldn’t find anything worth of suspicion on him. Not a trace of the drug itself nor the paraphernalia. And then the poor sap who squealed would become the target of animosity from Hannibal and his squad of lackeys. It usually ended in mental breakdown followed by a school transfer.

Early on in the school year, Jack had asked Chase why Hannibal, with all his notoriety, hadn’t been kicked out of Weld-Smith. It was, after all, a pretty difficult school to get into, what with the entrance exams and all. Chase had scowled and informed Jack that Hannibal’s father was on the school board. He wasn’t going anywhere.

So the 98% of students at Weld-Smith that didn’t like Hannibal (Jack figured the math early on) were stuck with him. 

-oOo-

In the world of things Jack hated about Physical Education as a class (and his list was extensive enough to need alphabetization), he couldn’t get mad about Fridays. After drilling and yelling and pushing them all week, Coach Connor would take the class out to the football field. He had a couple of bags with him, chock-full of things like frisbees, soccer balls, jump ropes, etc… But if you didn’t feel like messing around with any of that or were prone to getting hit in the head with the ball (which Jack was), then you could walk the track.

As long as you were moving. Jack found that out the hard way.

“Spicer!” Coach barked. “Off your rear! We don’t sit in this class!”

So Jack walked the track with Toshiro. Today was one of those days he was glad they were required to move; it was bitingly cold. Jack stuffed his hands deep in his hoodie pocket, trying to stave off shivering and rub some sort of feeling back into his fingers. He guessed he should be grateful it wasn’t raining. Toshiro, on the other hand, loved the cold weather. 

“Look, when you’re big like me, the sun is not your friend.”

“Yeah, but when you’re a rake like me,” Jack huffed back, “you crave it. Even if it’ll burn you black and crispy.”

“You need to eat more.”

A sharp pang went through Jack at that; Chase had told him the same thing all summer. He sighed. Toshiro frowned.

“You’re thinking about Chase Young again, aren’t you?”

“No!” Jack said, a bit too quickly for his liking. Toshiro snorted.

“Sure…”

“It’s just that… We were best friends,” Jack said bitterly. “Now he’s avoiding me. Like I’ve got the plague or something.”

“You are sure he’s straight? He could be in denial about his feelings.”

“Dude, he kissed my sister.”

Toshiro shrugged.

“Could be bi.”

“If he’s bi and he dumps Wuya and doesn’t get with anyone else, would that put him on stand-bi?”

Toshiro laughed, a loud, full thing that made Jack laugh too.

Their amusement was cut short, however, by a frisbee hitting the back of Toshiro’s head with a thwack. He jerked forward.

“Ow!”

“Hey _Tubbimura!_ You should go faster than that if you wanna stop jiggling!”

“Eat a bag of dicks!” Jack shouted over his shoulder, picking up the frisbee and sending it flying. 

When he turned back to Toshiro, his shoulders were slumped.

“I know I am big,” he sighed. “But I wish they wouldn’t point it out.”

“I’m sorry, dude. They’re assholes.”

They fell silent for a bit, Jack wracking his brain. Was there really anything he could do to comfort him? Toshiro was definitely big, far bigger than Jack was, but he was also strong. During the wrestling unit, Toshiro dominated on the mat, making many kids shriek for mercy, fists pounding the gym floor. He had a lot of muscle mass. They had a weight-lifting unit coming up, something Jack was absolutely dreading because of his noodle arms and toothpick legs. There was no doubt in his mind Toshiro had the capacity to do power-lifting in a competitive setting.

Jack huffed.

“You know, they threw a frisbee because they know they’d lose to you in a fight. You’re big, but you’re tough.”

“You think so?” Toshiro asked and he sounded so hopeful, Jack grinned.

“Fuck yeah, you’d wreck their shit!”

By the time they got back to the locker room, Toshiro was smiling again. 

-oOo-

At first, Chase hated the idea of posing as Wuya’s boyfriend. He also hated that Hannibal had made a decent point; no one would suspect he was gay if he was going out with her. She’d shrugged and said she wouldn’t mind kissing him. And he did kiss her despite the disgust that rocketed through him every time.

“Dating” Wuya, however, wasn’t as miserable as he thought it’d be. The more time he spent with her, the more Chase realized he honestly knew next to nothing about Wuya. Sure, she could be a bitch (sometimes he wondered if she ever thought about her words before they left her mouth), but there were things he hadn’t known. Purple was her favorite color. She was a sucker for nail-polish and anything orange-flavored/scented. When buying vinyls, she favored the 80’s, some of her albums echoing similar taste with Jack’s classic rock mp3s. 

Jack. Chase felt his chest ache at the thought of him. They hadn’t spoken in a while. He’d done this on purpose, of course, kept Jack at arms length. It would have to stay that way until Chase knew Jack would be safe. The memory of Hannibal’s threat still hung heavily in his mind, ringing in his ears.

All other points aside, Chase had to admit Wuya’s car was nice. He leaned against the passenger side door, staring moodily out the window as she rambled on, some synth-pop beat coming through the speakers. That was something else she and Jack had in common. They rambled. Chase found he didn’t mind that. 

They pulled up to the parking lot behind the school. It was weird to be there at 11 PM on a Saturday. Chase knew in his bones, in his very breath, that there was bound to be trouble. What exactly? He couldn’t say. But Hannibal had seemed excited about the meeting and that alone was cause for concern. He was actually relieved to have Wuya with him; Hannibal seemed to filter himself slightly around her. Like she wasn’t fully involved in all his plans.

He couldn’t help but wonder why she hung out with Hannibal. Did she have any other friends? Did she know what Hannibal threatened to do to her brother?

“It’s about damn time,” Hannibal called, leaning against the hood of his car with hands in pockets. “What did you do? Get stuck in 10 PM traffic?”

He barked out a laugh at his own joke, not seeing Chase roll his eyes as he climbed out of the passenger seat.

“Your chauffeur took a while.”

“Um, excuse you,” Wuya huffed, also climbing out of the car. “I was stuck in a parental-enforced movie night.”

“Put these on. We’ve got work to do.”

Chase caught the face mask and hoodie that was tossed to him. Something sank in his stomach.

“What exactly are we doing here?” He grumbled, pulling the hoodie on. It was big and black and Chase cringed slightly at the familiar scent radiating off the fabric. He knew the scent of Lao Mang Lone anywhere. He’d have to shower for at least an hour once home. Hannibal broke into a nasty grin.

“We’re busting into the locker room. I’ve got some revenge to be had. Pull up your hood; your long-ass hair is a dead giveaway if any cameras catch us.”

And that was all he said before strolling across the parking lot towards the field and track, Wuya hot on his heels. Chase did as Hannibal said and yanked up the hood as he followed after them. Once at the fence, Hannibal yanked back a section behind the school dumpsters, crawling through. Chase reasoned he must’ve cut the fence during the school day at some point. Or maybe even on a different night. How long had he been planning this? Where were the rest of his lackeys? Why were only him and Wuya invited?

Chase shot Wuya a questioning look but she was already crawling through the fence. Sighing, figuring he had no other choice, he also crawled through. Once on the track, they made their way towards the equipment building. Chase’s palms began to sweat. The only lockers in that building were the athletics lockers. Lockers of kids involved in a sports team. Like himself.

Hannibal’s preparation for the evening went way beyond opening up a little section in the fence. It also included somehow having the equipment building door unlocked for him. Chase couldn’t fathom it as they entered the locker room. It was dark and eerie inside, the benches and lockers looming in the gloom, casting sharp shadows when Hannibal switched on his phone flashlight. 

“Alright, Young, which locker is Zhao’s?”

Oh. So _that’s_ why he’d been invited. Hannibal was looking for Guan’s locker. His anxiety mounted, buzzing a warning in the back of his mind, and he swallowed.

“That one. Number twenty-six,” he muttered, gesturing at one of the lockers. 

He stood out of the way as Hannibal busied himself with the lock, breaking into it with ease, like he broke locks every other day. He probably did, Chase told himself wryly. Taking slow, measured breaths, he tried to melt his panic away; it wasn’t Guan’s locker. He’d lied. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember whether the locker number he’d given was empty or not. Did anyone else use it?

When the lock broke and it was open, Chase felt a rush of relief; it was empty. When Hannibal turned to ask, he was quick to answer.

“You know Guan’s a fitness freak. He takes all his gear home.” 

“Ugh, athletes,” Hannibal scoffed. 

He pulled out a large tubberware bowl and placed it in the locker without the lid. Then he started adding things. Three eggs, a squirt of ketchup, a small mason jar of bacon grease…

“Hannibal, that’s fucking disgusting,” Wuya groused out, nose wrinkled. Chase silently agreed with her. The smell was absolutely rank and despite the mask he was wearing, he pulled his hoodie up over his nose in an attempt to block it out.

“Yeah, that’s the point, darlin’,” he grunted, fiddling with a string of tooth floss. “Now, quiet.”

Then Hannibal carefully rigged up three mentos to hang suspended over the mixture, held up only by that thin thread of floss tied to the locker door. The last item in his backpack made everything click for Chase: an entire 2-liter of Diet Coke. He and every other child that attended 7th grade science knew what Diet Coke and Mentos did.

He made a mental note to skip athletics on Monday. Because it wouldn’t just impact the poor idiot who had the misfortune of opening the locker, it would impact the entire class. He’d have to find a way to warn Guan and Dashi. But how? Guan rarely checked his texts, notorious for texting back three days late, and Dashi didn’t even own a phone. Said it messed with his chi or something.

Chase needed a third party, a messenger, someone he could trust… 

It was time to talk to Jack again. 

-oOo-

Something Jack really liked about Mr. Shields was his attention to detail. The stories of his travels woven into the lessons were typically rich and vivid, full of tiny details that the everyday person usually missed. Jack didn’t know for certain whether the details made the stories more or less believable but they certainly made them more interesting.

Unfortunately, because of that eye for detail, Mr. Shields almost always knew when a student was agonizing over something seemingly small. 

“Bee in your bonnet, Jack?”

Jack startled out of his own head, looking up from his chapter vocabulary. Mr. Shields was standing by his desk, maroon sweater and white button down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a singular dark eyebrow raised. Jack straightened, clearing his throat. Although he knew intrinsically he hadn’t done anything wrong, an internal part of him still squirmed.

“Sir?”

“Typically you finish your vocabulary in half an hour. We’ve been at this for almost an hour and you have two definitions copied down.”

Jack flushed, looking down at his paper. He was right, of course. Mondays were for vocabulary and as fascinated as he was with the chapter on world religions, he couldn’t seem to focus. 

He silently thanked the universe that the rest of the class wasn’t honed in on this conversation; after finishing vocabulary, it was down time and unlike Ms. Peterson, Mr. Shields allowed a cheerful, talkative environment. According to the big poster by the whiteboard, the classroom protocol was casual and comfortable, but controlled and respectful. And that was pretty much followed.

“Come on up to my desk,” Mr. Shields suggested with a wave of his hand, turning and heading to the back of the room. “Let’s talk.”

Jack closed his spiral notebook and textbook with a sigh, stuffing his pen into the back pocket of his jeans. His legs were pure jello as he made his way to Mr. Shields’ desk at the back of the room. Was he that obvious? That something was so blatantly bothering him?

It… Wasn’t a lie, that was for sure; he was still dwelling over Chase, the worry hanging over him and weighing him down like a raincloud about to burst. Because even thought he couldn’t think of a single instance, what if Jack _had_ done something to deserve this silence? Maybe he’d become too clingy? Too annoying? Simply too much in general? In Jack’s head, it was a definite possibility.  
“Take a seat, Jack.”

He settled on the stool by Mr. Shields’ desk, a stool kept there for little talks such as these. Ashley had been placed there often, usually for her treatment of Nova, who’d also been on the stool before. Although Nova had walked away looking a little lighter and brighter than she usually was whereas Ashley walked away grouching and flushed.

It was an interesting place to be. Jack wasn’t sure whether he was in trouble or not. Mr. Shields’ hands were clasped, chin resting comfortably on them. He regarded Jack. He didn’t seem angry. But Jack could be wrong as he often was.

“Students tend to think teachers don’t see the things that happen in social circles,” He started, keeping his voice low. “But we do. We know who’s dumped who, who’s made who cry, who was invited to this or that… We also know when two friends stop talking.”

Mr. Shields’ pale eyes could see right through Jack and it was all he could take not to shake apart at the seams.

“Now what’s happening between you and Mr. Young?”

“I…”

Jack hadn’t meant to choke on that singular word but he did. Then his throat closed up, words replaced by tears that bubbled up and out. Wordlessly, Mr. Shields picked up the tissue box on his desk and offered it. Jack plucked several tissues from it, burying his face in the soft, cool material. All the tension that’d been building in his chest loosened and unraveled, leaving a hollow ache.

It shouldn’t hurt this badly, Jack told himself as he tried to catch his breath, pressing his eyes into the tissues. It shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he’d been dumped. But, at the same time… Hadn’t he?

Mr. Shields waiting patiently for Jack to calm at least a little while before speaking again.

“I had Chase in this class when he was a freshman. He was intelligent, respectful, eager to please… Every once in a while, he stops by this room to have a little chat. This morning was one of those instances.”

Jack nodded to show he was listening, crumpling the tissues in his lap. Unseen by him, Mr. Shields smiled.

“He asked me how you were doing. If you were alright. And he asked me to give you this.”

Jack looked up. Outstretched towards him, tucked in-between two of Mr. Shields’ fingers, was a folded square of paper. As he reached for it, Mr. Shields pulled it back, eyes serious.

“Jack, is there a reason I should be concerned for your safety?”

Jack’s brow furrowed as he sniffled. Was there a reason he should be concerned for his safety? Why would Chase be worried about whether he was alright or not? He shook his head, baffled.

“N-not that I’m aware of, sir…”

“Do you promise to come to me or another teacher if you feel threatened?”

Jack’s mouth went very dry. He made a mental note to talk to Guan and Dashi about this particular conversation as soon as possible. Knowing he wasn’t going to get the note (a note from Chase!) without agreeing, he nodded. Mr. Shields extended the paper to Jack again and he took it with a shaking hand. 

Unfolding it, his heart jumped at the familiar scrawl in blue pen. As he read, his eyes widened. He swiped at his tears. The bell rang. He stayed where he was. Mr. Shields raised an eyebrow. 

“Is it what you were hoping for?”

“No, sir. I mean… Not exactly, but it does clear some things up,” Jack’s tongue tripped over the words and he looked back to Mr. Shields with a grin. He knew he probably looked like a loon, smiling with tears still on his face. But he didn’t care. “I’ve gotta go! Thank you!”

Before Mr. Shields could blink, Jack was off the stool and leaving the room. He shook his head with a smile. If he knew anything about Chase Young at all, he knew Jack would be alright.

-oOo-

After the first two periods of the day, there was a strange hour-long time slot at Weld-Smith. This was called “Study Hall” by all the teachers. For the students, however, this study hall period was perfect for club meetings or goofing off in the cafeteria with your buddies. Of course, a lot of students did actually use it to get work done. Specifically homework that should’ve been done the night before or studying for tests in a frenzied panic. 

Jack was one of those students who usually ran off to the Radical Robotics Club but today? No, today he had more important things to do. He was so glad the Kung Fu Klub met during lunch and Athletics in the afternoon. That meant the trap was still silent, lying in wait…

He found Dashi and Guan hunched over their chemistry notes in the library.

“G-Guan! Dashi!” Jack gasped, clutching at the stitch in his side. “I-I’ve gotta talk to you.”

“Whoa, kid, you don’t look so hot,” Dashi said, eyebrows shooting up. “You good?”

“No, read this.”

He opened up the note and placed it on the table, smoothing it out and pointing. As he tried to catch his breath, they read silently. 

“That idiot,” Guan hissed under his breath. “Breaking into the locker room in the middle of the night? He’s old enough to go to jail for this!”

“It sounds like he didn’t have much of a choice,” Jack reasoned, taking a seat. Dashi nodded, folding the note and carefully tucking it inside his pocket.

“If he’s running with Bean again, there’s no telling what sort of leverage he has over him,” he said quietly. “Chase wouldn’t do this without good reason.”

The hollow ache in Jack’s chest flummoxed slightly.

“You think so?”  
“I know so,” Dashi reassured him with a nod. Then he sighed. “We’ll have to tell someone. I don’t know if we’d be able to diffuse it without getting into trouble ourselves.”

“Or accidentally setting it off…” 

“We could turn off the security cameras,” Jack suggested, sitting up a little straighter. “I’d just have to get into the office, fiddle with the system a bit-“

“No good,” Guan grunted. “It’s too risky. If you get caught, you’ll be in deep shit.”

They sat for a moment, thinking. Jack pouted; he’d kind of been looking forward to dismantling the security system. It’d be nice to get his hands onto some wires and spare parts he could use in his own projects.

“… We could tell Coach,” Guan said slowly.

“You mean _I_ could tell Coach,” Dashi corrected him with a groan. Guan shrugged apologetically.

“Yeah, well, he’ll believe you.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” 

“Coach Conner?” Jack asked, wrinkling his nose. “He wouldn’t believe any of us!”

“No, not Conner,” Guan clarified. “Coach Fung. Dashi’s grandfather.”

“Ohhh… I forgot he was a coach. Omi only ever talked about him as Shífǔ*.”

“Because Omi’s not in high school yet,” Dashi reminded him. “And likes to remind everyone his su bàba* is a shífǔ.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to Su Bàba,” Dashi said finally, standing and putting away his chemistry materials. “That’s the safest bet. He’s also least likely to put my ass in ISS if this goes sideways.”

“Hey, u-um, another thing…” Jack said. When Dashi paused in packing up, he cleared his throat. “Mr. Shields asked me if I was worried about my safety? For some reason? He told me to go to him if I feel threatened. Would either of you happen to know why…?”

Guan darkened. He exchanged a look with Dashi. He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms.

“I’ll be honest with you, Jack. Hannibal isn’t just a mean fucker. He’s dangerous. The students know it, the teachers know it… If Mr. Shields thinks you’re going to be threatened, I’d stay on your guard.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Dashi added, nodding. “And stay away from Chase. I know he’s your best friend and I know he cares so if he’s not talking to you right now, it’s probably because he’s scared you’ll get hurt. Understand?”

Jack nodded, wide-eyed.  
“Good. Here, you can keep this. I’ve got to go talk to Su Bàba.”

Dashi handed Jack the note Chase wrote. His fingertips burned on contact and he slipped it safely into his pocket, heart hammering away in his chest. Flashing a peace sign, Dashi slipped out of the library, on his way to his grandfather’s office in the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Shifu is Chinese for Master  
* Su baba is Chinese for Grandfather
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I'm quite happy with it. :)  
Here's hoping the next update for Evermore won't take as long. But now that I'm on summer vacation away from my students, I have so much more time to write.  
Thank you for your patience!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st


	9. Being a Teenager is Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I got this chapter out fast! I'm pretty happy about that!   
As you can all see, I have decided that this story will 12 chapters over all. This is, of course, subject to change as sometimes the characters decide to go on a side-quest.  
I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

Only Chase’s closest friends really knew just how much he hated going to visit his father, Bohai Chen. After years of living under his thumb and under his roof, Li Hua took her son and filed for divorce, taking Bohai to court and going by her maiden name again, Young. Even though the case should have been very cut-and-dry (the man was an alcoholic with violent tendencies), it was dragging out. Unfortunately, Bohai was an excellent business man and managed to get permission to take Chase on the weekends.

Of course, being the type of man he was, Bohai grumbled and complained most weekends, saying he didn’t have the time to entertain a teenager. Then he got moody about not getting the predetermined weekends with his son. This led to a monthly weekend visit. The sheer hypocrisy of the entire situation made Chase grind his teeth so hard, he was sure he’d cracked a molar. 

The fact of the matter was that Chase was old enough to make a legal decision on whether he wanted to go over there or not. But after threatening to no longer pay his tuition at Weld-Smith… Chase reluctantly decided to honor Bohai’s wishes and visit once a month. That, and he didn’t want his father’s frustrations to trickle back into his mom’s life. He could handle the occasional bruise. He didn’t want to see them on her. 

So for the most part, he managed to avoid his father while staying in his childhood home. But the act was difficult to maintain all weekend and he usually came home with a bruise or two for mouthing off. 

This particular weekend when Chase came home, Li Hua was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea. She was in a bathrobe, a paper unfolded in her hand.

“Oh, good, you’re home,” she greeted. “Come join me.”

“Actually, mom, I’m really tired. I’m going to unpack and—“

“That wasn’t a request, Chase.”

Chase’s heart plummeted to his stomach. Crossing the living room, he dropped his duffel bag and slumped in the chair across from his mom. She regarded him with a soft frown.

“Was it bad this weekend?”

“Not that bad,” Chase muttered, shifting. “It could’ve been worse.”

“Chase…”

After a pregnant pause, Chase pushed up his sleeve to show the handprint around his forearm. It was a mottled purple and wrapped completely around his limb, showing how he’d taken after his mother’s stature; he was a lot smaller than Bohai. 

“That’s the only one, mom, I swear.”

Li Hua pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh. It struck Chase just how tired she looked. There were dark shadows under her eyes and lines around her mouth.

“I’m doing everything I can to make sure this restraining order goes through. I know it’s been months but—“

“It’s alright, mom” Chase cut her off earnestly. “I’ll be eighteen in half a year and then it won’t matter anymore.”

“I know but… I just don’t like seeing my baby hurt.”

“Ugh, mom, please.”

Li Hua waved her hand with a slight smile as her son’s ears turned pink. She knew him well enough to know that any form of affection from her embarrassed him to no end. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But seriously, Chase, this is what we need to talk about.”

She slid the paper across the table to Chase, which he picked up. His stomach churned uncomfortably when he saw the Weld-Smith crest at the top of the page. It was his progress report. And it did not look good. Of course, his Athletics grade was flawless, the A giving him a soft swell of pride in his chest. The B’s he was pulling in Social Studies and Language Arts weren’t that bad either. But he had a C in Chemistry and a nightmarish D in Pre-Calculous.

“Your grades aren’t typically that low,” Li Hua pointed out. “What’s going on, Chase? When I get home in the evening, you’re rarely here. I assumed you were out studying with friends like you tell me you are. But these grades tell me differently. Why have you been lying to me?”

Chase swallowed thickly. He focused on the necklace she wore around her neck. It was a simple golden chain with a lotus pendant on it, the gift he gave her for Mother’s Day when he was sixteen. He’d sold several batches of Hannibal’s Lao Mang Lone to save up the money to buy it for her because he knew Bohai wouldn’t take him to get her anything. 

He hated lying to her. But there were some things he couldn’t bring to tell her.

For instance, the duffel bag on the floor nearly burned a hole of shame in his shoe; roughly five hundred dollars he’d stolen from his father was stashed inside, ready to be given to Hannibal little by little for every dosage of Lao Mang Lone “sold”. That would buy him a month to figure out what the hell he was going to do about the pickle he was in.

“I guess I’ve been stressed,” he forced out, his mouth dry as cotton. “It’s junior year and-and I’m supposed to be looking at colleges and the workload is huge… They’re starting us on SAT prep work so it’s a lot. But I have been slacking off a bit… Everything a little overwhelming.”

“Why don’t you ask for help?” Li Hua suggested gently. Chase wrinkled his nose.

“You mean go to tutoring?” 

“Yes, exactly. Or you could ask a teacher to help you with your time management skills. Maybe you could find a way to help organize your thoughts when you feel overwhelmed.”

Chase nodded. His stomach still rolled over. He wished he could tell her what was going on with Hannibal. And Wuya. And… And Jack. But he couldn’t put that on her. She had enough legal mess to deal with already. 

Li Hua smiled.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?”

Chase was not about to cry, not even in front of his mom. He bit back the stinging in his eyes and nodded again. 

“Thanks, mom.”

“Get some rest. You’ve got school in the morning.”

Chase left the progress report, bending to pick up his duffel bag. Giving Li Hua a kiss on the cheek, he turned and headed to his room.

“Goodnight,” she called. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Goodnight.”

-oOo-

Chase stared at the ceiling. The fan above his spun and blurred into a strange dark shadow above him and his mind spun with it. Yang was curled up asleep on his right foot, the kitten’s warmth seeping through the blankets, Yin loafing up on the desk. The end of her white tail flicked back and forth as she chirped lightly at something outside the window. 

Despite his company, misery threatened to burn and spill out the corners of his eyes. He missed Guan and Dashi and worrying about silly things like homework. The dosages of Lao Mang Lone Hannibal pushed onto him sat in his backpack in the closet. He had the money, he thought faintly. And he still had his syringes. He could take a dosage, numb out his anxiety…

He missed Jack. 

He rolled over, the pull of Lao Mang Lone drowned out by Jack. Was he alright? They hadn’t spoken in… Three months? Had it really been that long? Chase swallowed. It _had_ been that long.

He thought of Pre-Calculous, of how he sat a row over and a few seats back. Jack’s hair was bright red on the first day of school. He seemed to like it and kept the color up. It drew Chase’s eyes to him like a beacon. He never told Jack but… He quite liked the eyeliner. It made his eyes pop. When focusing, Jack chewed on his bottom lip, sometimes on the end of his pencil, and Chase could almost see the gears turning…

His fingers twitched below his waistband. Heart racing in the darkness, Chase felt his breath come faster. He thought back to the lake that summer, to their accidental kiss… The soft meeting of their mouths neither one of them had planned. How good he smelled, all coconut and salt and sweat. Then the fantasy changed, morphed, and he saw Jack flushed and hungry, pale skin stretching for miles under all that black. What if Chase did everything to him he wanted to do? Would he bite his lip and tremble under Chase’s hands? Moan and plead for more?

He knew it was wrong. But he couldn’t stop himself. Not this time.

Images of him flashed through Chase’s mind, Jack’s name a prayer on his lips. Bliss flooded his senses, toes curling, back arching…

Then only the sound of his breath, coming in pants, heartbeat a drum in his ears. Yang jumped from Chase’s foot to the floor with a mew of irritation. He slunk under the bed, likely to crawl into the hole he’d clawed in the bottom of the box spring. Chase sat up slowly, limbs like jello.

Cleaning up in the bathroom, Chase avoided his reflection in the mirror. His hands began to shake as he realized what he’d done. He couldn’t run from it any more. How long had he liked Jack? Why did he have to feel this way? He couldn’t answer those questions.

When he made it back to his room, he stared at his backpack, the new revelations making him a bit desperate. Maybe… Just a little wouldn’t hurt…?

_No._

He started to pace, fingers tangling in his hair, trying not to think about it. He still remembered the high, the uncoiling of inhibitions, the wow-I’m-on-top-of-the-world-nothing-can-hurt-me rush. 

In a panicked haze, Chase opened up one of his desk drawers. Yin lifted her head with a soft questioning chirrup. There, in a Ziplock bag taped to the underside of the drawer, were several syringes, a spoon, and a lighter. It shook in his hands. He couldn’t keep this stuff in his room, it had to go. The longer it stayed, the more he wanted to get high. 

Yin mewed, drawing Chase’s attention. She was pawing at the window.

“No, Yin,” Chase sighed shakily. “You can’t go out.”

He scooped her up gently with his free hand. That’s when he saw it. Depositing Yin on his bed, Chase returned to the window and opened it, leaning out. Across the street, one window was illuminated, the light within steady and strong. 

Jack’s window.

He knew what to do.

-oOo-

Tap, tap, tap.

jack jumped roughly a foot in the air, looking up from his laptop. His eyes widened significantly when they fell on Chase, who was perched like a gargoyle on the slant of roof outside his window. Shifting his laptop aside, he pulled up the blinds and unlatched the window, pushing it up and open.

“Chase? What’re you—?”

“Ssshhh…” Chase hushed with a wave of his hand. “You don’t want Wuya to hear.”

Jack’s eyes darted to his closed door and he nodded. He gestured for Chase to come inside, stepping back so he could. 

Jack drank in his appearance. Gray sweatpants with Weld-Smith emblazoned in blue and gold down a leg, a black tank top, an unzipped blue hoodie, barefoot, hair down… It struck him he’d never seen Chase’s hair down before. It fell in long, dark cascades down to this waist. Was it…? Yeah, it had a slight curl to it. He’d never noticed that before.

Jack felt pretty self-conscious in his presence. Especially since it was midnight and he not only didn’t have on his eyeliner (he’d worn it so much, he felt naked without it), he also didn’t have gel in his hair. It hung, red and limp, around his ears.

“Chase, are you o—?”

“We’ve got to talk,” Chase interrupted him quietly. “I have… Things… To tell you.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Jack intoned furiously. “What was with that note? Are you avoiding me because of Hannibal?”

Chase sighed, lowering himself to sit on the floor. The anger drained right out of Jack when he realized his hands were shaking. Quite badly, too. Jack sat slowly as well, staring. His heart skipped a beat; Chase was in his room in the middle of the night. He pointedly ignored the hundreds of different scenarios that flashed through his head and the effect it had on his body. 

“I…” Chase paused to clear his throat. He pushed his hair back out of his face, inhaling deeply before releasing his breath slowly. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know it’s late.”

“I was up,” Jack assured him, gesturing to the laptop.

“I just… Here,” Chase said with finality. From his hoodie pocket, he drew out a Ziplock bag which he tossed to Jack. After examining the contents, Jack looked up at Chase with wide eyes.

“Chase, is this—?”

“It can’t stay in my room anymore,” Chase cut him off. “Hannibal has me selling for him again.”

“Lao Mang Lone, you mean?”

Chase gave him a sharp look. Jack shrugged apologetically, stuffing the bag and his hands into his hoodie pocket. 

“Guan told me. You were addicted before, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m not proud of that.”

“I guessed. So that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t trust myself around it. I don’t want to slip back into old habits.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind you being here. So… Is Hannibal the reason we haven’t talked? Like, at all?”

Chase leaned back, resting against the desk. The dark shadows under his eyes were prominent in the dim room and Jack wondered just how much sleep he’d been getting. 

“Unfortunately, yes. I don’t want you anywhere near him. He’s dangerous.”

“So people keep saying,” Jack grumbled. “But he hasn’t messed with me yet so what gives? Like… If I’m in trouble with Hannibal, I’m unaware of it.”

“He’s disgusting,” Chase hissed, leaning forward again. “I’m only selling again because he threatened you!”

Jack stared.

“He… Threatened me? Chase, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your older sister hangs out with him all the time,” Chase mumbled, ears burning. “I was concerned the news would get back to him somehow. Ugh, I don’t know, Jack. It made sense to me at the time.”

“I-It’s okay, I get it,” Jack said. There was a strange rabbiting in his chest, a lump in his throat. “So why are you dating Wuya? I thought you didn’t even like her.”

“I don’t,” Chase groaned. He let his head lean back against the desk, considering his next words carefully. “It’s not a real relationship. It’s a cover.”

“A cover?”

“I’m gay.” 

He couldn’t look at Jack. His eyes were burning, fear writhing in his stomach. 

“Yeah? Me too.”

Chase’s eyes snapped forward. Jack was flushed, avoiding his gaze as well, knees pulled up to his chest. He knew that feeling. That I-just-bore-my-soul-please-don’t-hate-me feeling. The last time Chase was that openly vulnerable, Bohai had caught him holding hands with a classmate. He walked away from that encounter with a broken wrist, a reminder that it was wrong and bad and not the way he was supposed to feel. 

He never wanted Jack to hurt like that.

“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t. I may not be that good of a friend, but I’ll keep your secrets.”

“I… I think you’re a great friend.”

Guilt squirmed horribly in Chase’s stomach at Jack’s quiet words. He didn’t deserve that.

“You think so?” 

“Mmhm. The best I’ve ever had.”

“I haven’t been a very good one recently,” Chase apologized softly. 

And he meant it. He’d been horrible to Jack. He couldn’t admit it aloud but he woke up every day hoping he’d have the guts to say something, anything to him, to apologize for his behavior. To apologize for kissing his sister. He’d always suspected Jack might have a small crush on him, the way he fumbled and flushed around him. But he’d lost hope in that a while back, convinced that Jack hated him for ghosting him. Jack shrugged. 

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted. “I’ve ignored and avoided you for months now and it’s not fair to you. Jack, I’m sorry.”

Jack looked up at Chase, tears pearling in the corners of his eyes. Chase’s breath abandoned him. He wanted so badly to reach out, to touch, to hold…

“I was upset at first,” Jack admitted, voice wavering slightly. “Then I was mad. But I’m not anymore. I… After the note, I figured if you weren’t talking to me, you had a pretty good reason. I forgave you a long time ago.”

Chase released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe not. But I’m gonna forgive you anyways."

Chase shook his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. Jack examined the bag in his hands again before reaching behind him under his bed. After shifting some laundry aside, he procured a shoebox. Chase leaned over to see inside when he opened it. There was an assortment of odd objects. Little gears and washers, napkins with notes and designs scribbled on them, a couple of firecrackers, three manga volumes from the same series with two boys on the front…

Jack flushed.

“No one will find these here,” he told him with such confidence, Chase had no choice than to believe him. He hid the bag under the mangas, closed the lid, then shoved it back under his bed. It blended perfectly in with the other junk he had hiding under there. Chase felt a rush of gratitude.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“Don’t mention it.

He stood, stretching. Now that he’d talked to Jack, he felt lighter.

“I should probably get home.”

“Yeah, it’s late,” Jack yawned, also standing. Chase’s eyes flickered over the laptop. There were some sort of blueprints glowing on the screen, several equations typed up in the margins.

“Planning a new robot?”

“Yeah. With all the stuff I’m learning at Robotics Club, I finally have the ability to build something functional. I’m hoping for a bot that’ll clean my room while I’m at school.”

Chase snorted, shaking his head. He’d missed him. How had he missed so much?

“You’re talented, Jack. You’re going to go far if you keep building these sort of things.”

“… No one’s ever told me that before.”

“Well, they should,” Chase said, pushing the window open. He clambered out onto the slant of roof. “It’s true.”

“Chase, wait—“

“Yes?”

Chase turned his head back to look at him and his voice jammed in his throat. Jack was leaning on the desk, out the window, face mere inches from his own. His mouth went dry. The soft red of his eyes were dark in the night. Time hung suspended like the stars above them.

Jack’s lips pressed to his. Chase’s mind blanked, a red hot bubble bursting in his chest.

As soon as it happened, it was over. Jack’s face was bright red. He licked his lips.

“Goodnight,” he blurted. 

The window was closed.

The last remnant of denial escaped Chase in a shaky sigh as he slid down the slant of roof, climbing down the trellis. Even though his feet were firmly planted on the pavement, his head was several thousand miles up, featherlight and not likely to come down any time soon.

In the middle of the street, he turned back to look at Jack’s window again. And smiled.

-oOo-

Jack was unsure how much sleep he actually got that night. Tossing and turning, he relived the midnight meeting over and over in his head. He could hardly believe his own boldness. After months and months of pining and longing and doodling his name in little hearts in notebooks, he’d done it. He’d kissed Chase Young.

His sister’s boyfriend. Who wasn’t really her boyfriend. What had he gotten himself into? No one could know. Not without the risk of exposing Chase and his secrets to all of Weld-Smith. He trusted Chase to keep his secrets… So he would keep his in return. As much as it felt like his heart would burst right out of his chest and leave giddy shrapnel everywhere.

After hitting the snooze button several times, he went to school the next morning looking an absolute mess. Eyeliner smudged and hair sticking up at the back where he slept on it, he slumped into his chair in homeroom with a styrofoam cup of french vanilla cappuccino from the cafeteria. He sipped it, feeling the thick, hot concoction warm him down to his toes.

Ashley snorted, spinning her pink gel pen between her fingers. She cracked her gum.

“Damn, Spicer,” she commented with a laugh. “Did something make a nest in your hair?”

“Fuck off,” Jack groused, opening up his spiral notebook. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Nova lifted her head off her desk. Jack suspected she’d been sleeping like she did every morning before class began, but now she was taking in Jack’s appearance from under an arched eyebrow.

“Are you okay?”

“No one was talking to you, freak,” Ashley spat at her.

“Shut up, Ashley” Jack snapped. “What’s your fucking deal? Is your lifelong dream to be a bitch? Or were you just born that stupid?”

Ashley made a noise of outrage, opening her mouth to respond. It probably would’ve been explosive in nature too, if Mr. Shield’s hadn’t chosen that very moment to start addressing the class. 

“Get bent, Spicer,” she hissed under her breath instead. Jack smirked smugly.

He looked to Nova and the smirk slid right off his face. She’d shrunk back down into herself at her desk, hood up and facing the front of the room.

Ashley, who’d started off stuck-up but tolerable, had taken a shine to Wuya. The slow, resulting change made her steadily more awful and taunting. Jack didn’t know how the help; the bullying had gotten worse. It wasn’t just in homeroom either. And it wasn’t just happening to Nova.

When Jack joined his friend in the art room during lunch, he heard all sorts of stories.

Toshiro was consistently picked on for being overweight. There was always something derogatory being shouted across the gym or across the track, usually accompanied by giggling, sending him into a sad spiral until Jack was able to cheer him up again. He’d joined him in the art room after repeatedly sitting alone in the cafeteria.

A new kid came with him, too, a French exchange student named André. He barely spoke a word of English, choosing instead to mime most of what he wanted to say. So he was also often a target for ridicule. He sought refuge in the art room, sketching in charcoal next to Toshiro, shyly sharing his sketches on occasion. 

Harriet shared her art with the group as well, usually something drawn with graphite and colored pencils. But even more than drawing, she loved singing. She wasn’t bad at it either but when Jack asked why she didn’t sit with the choir during lunch (they had their own table), she’d flushed, muttering something about how she didn’t get along with them. Which struck Jack as odd; to him, she was one of the friendliest people he’d ever met. When he finally got the story out of her, it turned out the choir girls ostracized her because they felt their teacher favored her. 

“Which is kind of true,” she admitted with a shrug. “I use to spend my lunch organizing all the sheet music for her so… Yeah…”

Nova was another matter entirely. Ashley had made it a point to make her life a living hell. Notebooks went missing and turned up torn up, there were rumors and whispers that spread faster than wildfire… While the others were only slightly bothered by the treatment they received at the hands of their peers, it wasn’t uncommon for Nova to show up to the art room in tears.

Harriet was always the first one to her side. They had quickly, somehow, become inseparable, spending as much time outside of school together as they did inside of school. It was the strangest friendship Jack had ever seen. He never saw two people who were so different and yet… They balanced each other out.

He couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how people saw his friendship with Chase before everything went to hell.

-oOo-

Meanwhile, Chase’s behavior hadn’t changed at all. Determined to keep Hannibal fooled, he continued to lean on his desk and talk to Wuya with a smirk during Pre-Calculous. He still sat with them at lunch, slipping Hannibal a wad of cash under the table, just enough to make him think Chase had sold five or so dosages over the weekend. In reality, all fifteen dosages he’d been given were still in his bedroom at home, taped to the underside of his desk drawer, unused. 

Chase wondered how long he’d be able to keep this up. He’d have to get rid of the Lao Mang Lone at some point.

“He’s going to get caught,” Guan hissed to Dashi on their way to Krazy Kung Fu Klub. Dashi shrugged.

“We can’t do anything about it,” he reasoned. “After all, we both know there’s not much even he can do about it.”

“Hey, may I walk with you?” 

They both paused, turning to see Chase. He had his duffel bag over his shoulder. Dashi raised an eyebrow.

“You’re actually going to join us?” He drawled. “After… What? Three months?”

“Yeah, I know it’s been a while.”

“So Hannibal actually let you come out to play?” Guan asked wryly. Chase’s ears burned.

“You know I don’t have a choice.”

“We know,” Dashi assured him, elbowing Guan in the side. He shifted with a huff.

“Well, if we’re gonna go, let’s go.”

“You know Guan,” Dashi intoned to Chase as their friend went on ahead down the hall. “He’ll sulk for a while…”

“Then he’ll ask to get pho and be back to normal,” Chase finished for him. “I know.”

“So what made you leave Bean-brain’s table?”

“I sold enough this weekend that he won’t isn’t making me sell during lunch.”

Dashi frowned.

“Chase, you shouldn’t—“

“I’m actually not.” At Dashi’s questioning expression, he sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Club first,” Chase sighed. “I feel like punching something.”

Dashi snorted.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG A KISS  
Are they together yet? Nobody knows... :D  
Stay tuned! Evermore should be updated in a week!


	10. Matters of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy it's about time! My best friend moved in with me and school started up again so I've been sooo busy! Hopefully, with my new writing schedule, I should be right back on track.  
Enjoy!

It was too early to be awake. Especially for this time of the year. The sun hadn’t even peeked its rays over the horizon, the world still doused in dark. Yet Jack was crawling out of his window, shivering in the chill and pulling his hoodie tighter around him. He’d seen Chase doing the same not a minute before. He got a strange sense of deja vu as he followed him down the street. He’d walked this path before but this time? He wasn’t even bothering trying to hide. 

Surely, Chase knew he was there, roughly twenty paces behind him. But he didn’t acknowledge him, keeping his stride brisk.

Jack paused by the dead bushes that bracketed the path leading down to the lake. Chase was standing still now. No doubt doing those deep breathing exercises he taught him the first time they’d practiced together. Had that really only been that summer? Had they really been friends off and on for that long?

Had he really kissed him? Heat rose rapidly in Jack’s cheeks as Chase flicked that piece of hair out of his face. He’d kissed that.

“Jack, really,” Chase sighed, breaking his stance. He looked over his shoulder at Jack and his heart hiccuped in his chest. “If you want to join me, join me.”

Jack hurried to do so.

“M-morning…”

“Good morning.”

He fell in beside Chase, mimicking his stance. The silence that followed was thick enough to be cut with a knife only to find more layers of silence underneath. A Russian babushka doll of tension. A gentle wind blew across the lake, rippling the water and making Jack cringe, shoulders jumping up to his ears. Chase’s jaw seemed tighter at a glance, like his teeth were clenched or something. Was he… Angry? Because he kissed him? He hoped not.

He got his answer without having to investigate further.

“Damn it,” Chase cursed under his breath.

Then the wind was knocked out of Jack, his back pressed hard against the tree. A pair of lips collided with his own. Cold, chapped, they pulled a groan from Jack, then warmed quickly. His head tilted back. He made a soft, earnest sound at the back of his throat. Chase’s hands squeezed his shoulders.

Hips against his. Jack’s body reacted fiercely and instinctively, pressing back. Panic flared to life in his chest, heart beating wildly out of control as Chase kissed down his neck. He scrambled to find words. His lips tripped and caught on them.

“Ch-Chase…! St—… Stop!”

Chase pulled back immediately. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, holding onto Jack’s upper arms. 

“Sorry! Sorry… Are you… Are you alright?”

Hands held Jack’ face and a sob clawed its way up. Apologies tumbled out. Gently, without a single trace of irritation in his actions, Chase pressed feather-light kisses all over his face. He spoke softly.

“It’s okay… It’s okay, I moved too quickly. I’m sorry.”

“N-not— Not ready…’

“I know, Jack,” Chase validated Jack’s words, stroking the back of his neck. “You don’t have to be. It’s alright.”

Tears rolling down his cheeks, Jack threw himself on Chase, buried his face in his shoulder, and cried. He shook like a leaf, arms tight and warm around his waist. Rubbing his back in soothing circles. It took a while for him to find his voice again.

“Wh-what are we?” Jack finally asked, sniffling. He refused to remove himself from Chase’s arms. He felt Chase’s sigh, chest rising and falling against his.

“We will have to be careful with who we tell,” Chase admitted quietly. “I don’t know what my father would do to me if he found out. But that aside… I could be yours.”

“Really, you— you would…?” Jack trailed off, pulling back to look up at him. Chase’s forehead pressed to his, that lovely black hair falling and curling on his. It brushed softly against his face, leaving fire in its wake.

“I’ve been a fool for far too long,” he murmured. “I’ve made every mistake and— and I’ve pushed you aside and pretended to be something I’m not but… But you drive me wild, Jack, I…”

Jack stood on his tip-toes, kissing him. Chase sighed into it, fingers curling on his hips, the warmth seeping under his very skin. When the kiss broke, Jack had his answer.

“I could be yours,” he breathed against Chase’s lips. 

“Did you…” Chase paused to clear his throat, clearly flustered, and Jack smiled, warmth flooding him from head to toe. “Did you come out here because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

Jack blinked, completely caught off guard.

“… It’s Valentine’s Day?”

Chase groaned, pressing his forehead to his again. A giggle escaped Jack, filling the giddy space between them, the realization of something new and exciting starting to settle in.

“I swear, Jack…” 

-oOo-

Jack couldn’t focus. His sandwich hovered two inches from his mouth, a bite missing, but… He couldn’t remember taking it. Sure, he could taste the food in his mouth. Mustard, turkey, cheese, and pickle on wheat bread. He sighed and set down the sandwich, deciding it was impossible. He could think of nothing else, only Chase and the feeling his lips pressed to his own. His mind spun glass visions of what could’ve happened at the lake. 

What could’ve happened if he hadn’t panicked. Jack remembered the press of Chase’s desire against him, his heat in the cold air, his breath…

“Jack? Earth to Jack… Jack!”

His eyes focused. Harriet was grinning at him, the rest of the group watching expectantly. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter.

“What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“Gomen-ne, Harriet,” Toshiro snickered. “Jack was thinking about somebody with long, dark hair and a kung fu body.”*

“Dude!” Jack groaned, face warming as André, Nova, and Harriet laughed.

“Jack you are… Vhat is vord?” André hummed, tapping his lips. “Tu es baisé… Ah. Fucked.”**

“Your English gets better every day,” Nova dead-panned. Harriet and Toshiro roared with laughter, leaning on each other for support. 

“Do I have to kick y’all out?” The art teacher sighed/asked. She was resting her cheek on her palm, looking utterly weary. Harriet, when she finally caught her breath again, grinned and half-turned in her seat.

“Sorry, Mrs. Parker. We’ll shut up.”

“I certainly hope so,” the teacher said, the corner of her lips quirking up. “You get louder every day.”

Harriet blushed, nodding, turning back to the group. Jack scowled, still bright red.

“So what if I’m thinking of Chase?” He grumbled. “I mean… He kissed me. He’s my boyfriend.”  
“So it is official?” Toshiro asked, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, but… Like everything else, it’s complicated.”

“Ahhh, tel est l’amour,” André mused. Jack blushed deeper.***

“I don’t know what that means, but get fucked, André.”

“Um…” Nova’s quiet sound drew Jack’s eyes to her. She was staring at something behind him and he turned to see what she was seeing and was instantly glad he did; Chase was standing in the doorway to the art room, dressed for Kung Fu, flanked by Guan and Dashi.

Jack started to stand only to hesitate. Would Chase want him to go to him? Or would he be wary of his friends?

“Jack,” Chase greeted with a nod. Then, after a cursory look around the room, asked, “Do they know?”

Jack nodded. The moment the art room door was closed, Chase took wide strides over to him. Jack stood to receive a warm embrace. He could hear soft exclaims of surprise from his friends but ignored them, hugging his boyfriend back.

“Chase?” Jack asked softly. “You okay?”

Chase nodded against his neck.

“Just wanted to see you,” he murmured, hands trailing across Jack’s waist. He pulled back to kiss his forehead. “And to see if you had any ideas; Hannibal’s been pressing me to sell more Lao Mang Lone. There’s got to be a way to get rid of it all.”

“The teacher’s right there,” Jack warned in a panicked squeak. Chase shot Mrs. Parker a cautious look. She had her nose buried in emails at the desktop computer, not a threat, unintentionally or otherwise.

“I was telling Chase we should put our heads together,” Dashi muttered as they sat at the table. “The more trustworthy eyes and ears we have on this, the better off we’ll be.”

“What’s going on…?” Harriet asked, leaning in. Toshiro, Nova, and André followed her lead curiously. Guan sighed, shooting a look at Chase, who had his arm around Jack’s waist.

“Hannibal Roy Bean has Chase selling Lao Mang Lone. Except he’s been paying for it out of pocket and just keeping the drugs. It’s piling up, of course. And we need to get rid of it.”

Harriet’s eyes widened.

“_The_ Hannibal Roy Bean?”

“You are insane,” Toshiro huffed, crossing his arms. Then he addressed Chase. “How many pounds of drugs do you have now?”  
“Twenty-five,” Chase said. “I thought about flushing it but… I’m paranoid my house is being watched.”

“By…?” Nova asked, trailing off. 

“Hannibal has eyes everywhere. The only way I can avoid suspicion is by dividing it all up and getting rid of it in multiple locations.”

“So ve each take a few pounds,” André suggested. “And ve… Vut? Deespose—Dee… Get vid of it?”

“That’s the idea,” Dashi confirmed with a nod. “But where is the question.”

“Yeah, ‘cause if we just drip it in say, a lake,” Jack chimed in. “It could be found if the police ever investigated.”

He could feel Chase’s hand tense and shake in his. There had to be some way out of this mess. Harriet bit her nails, Nova drumming hers on the table with a rhythmic tap-tap-tap-tap. Guan leaned against the art lockers, André frowning, Toshiro leaning his cheek against his palm.

“We could kill two birds with one stone.”

Chase turned his head towards Dashi. He was leaning on the table, brow furrowed in thought.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well… We could return the drugs to the original dealer. And tip off a campus officer.”

“What, you mean like… Plant the drugs?” Jack asked for clarification, eyebrows shooting up. Dashi nodded, grinning.

“Yeah. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Sure,” Chase snorted. “Planting drugs on Hannibal’s person isn’t going to be difficult.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be,” Harriet pointed out. “We all have lockers, right?”

“Not only that,” Nova added quietly. “Hannibal doesn’t use his locker; he always carries his backpack from class to class. Which means he never visits it.”

“Which means there’ll be less of a possibility of being spotted,” Guan confirmed, the corner of his lips tipping up. 

“It might work,” Chase said slowly, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“Ee, sore wa umaku iku kamo shiremasen,” Toshiro hissed. At the blank looks, he sighed. “Sorry, but I will not be helping. It is too risky.”****

“That’s fine,” Dashi said. “No one’s going to hold anyone here to anything.”

“After all,” Chase confessed. “I got myself into this mess. I won’t ask anyone to take the fall for me.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not,” Harriet spoke up. She smiled painfully. “My parents’ reaction wouldn’t be worth the risk if I’m caught.”

Nova made a soft comment that only Harriet caught— who flushed.

“I will also not be helping,” Nova then said. Harriet’s smile changed from apologetic to grateful.

“I vill help,” André said, leaning forward.

“Me too,” Jack said firmly. When Chase opened his mouth, likely to object, Jack waved a hand at him. “You won’t change my mind so don’t bother. I’m not letting you do this alone. Besides, everyone knows I’m the brains of this operation.”

Chase rolled his eyes.

“Sure you are,” he said but the way he squeezed Jack’s hand under the table softened the barb.

-oOo-

After a long and exhausting conversation on the subject, it was decided that the Lao Mang Lone should be brought up to the school in minuscule amounts. Chase and Jack would smuggle it in. Guan, Dashi, and André would plant it in Hannibal’s empty locker. Chase hid the baggies in his shoes, his pants, his backpack…

“This is going to take a while,” Guan grumbled as Chase slipped him a baggie from his hoodie sleeve. 

“Look, when I know we’re not being watched, we’ll increase the amount,” Chase assured him, checking over his shoulder for the umpteenth time that day.

Despite Dashi and Guan’s unshakable reputations, he didn’t want to tarnish them. He worried about that a lot. But Jack and André? Now that kept him up at night. André because he was a foreign exchange student who could easily get deported for being involved with something like this. Jack because, well… Because it was Jack. 

Chase started stopping by the art room more often before his Kung Fu meetings, just to grab a few precious moments with him. Then he started eating there with them. Feeding Hannibal a partial lie was easy enough; he needed Calculous tutoring and that happened during lunch. He just didn’t specify that Jack was tutoring him. 

Being there in the art room was therapeutic in a way. Jack’s friends were laid-back and quirky, outcasts… It wasn’t long before he knew their names, their faces, their little habits and quirks that made them unique. He was secretly glad Jack seemed to have found his niche, a friend group that didn’t take him for granted or push him to the side. Not like those pesky neighborhood kids. 

After a while, he began to think of them as secondary friends. That’s why when Jack asked him to keep an eye out for a purple galaxy spiral notebook, he agreed to do so. 

“Nova swears she had it in English during second period and it was gone by Biology in fifth. She’s freaking out; it’s really important to her.”

Chase couldn’t fathom the extreme importance of a singular notebook. Then again, Nova was the type never seen without a notebook. She always had her head down, scribbling something, tapping her pen on the desk. 

So when he caught a glimpse of the galaxy notebook in the hallway, he went right to the art room with a description of the possessor. It was pretty early, only Jack and Harriet settling in for lunch. After describing the girl he’d seen, Harriet’s eyes narrowed.

“Ashley,” she seethed, setting her Diet Coke down with a small clack.

“I take it you know her?” Chase asked dryly.

“She’s a baby bitch and she bullies Nova relentlessly.”

“Yeah, she’s a real piece of work,” Jack agreed. “Thinks Wuya hung the fucking moon— where are you going?”

Harriet paused in the art room doorway, turning back. She’d always been cheerful and mild-mannered to Chase but now? He’d never seen her look like that before, with a scowl on her lips and fire in her eyes.

“To get Nova’s notebook back, of course.”

Chase and Jack exchanged a panicked look before standing to follow her. 

The cafeteria was huge and loud and filling up quickly. Harriet strode froward with purpose and Jack might’ve followed further if Chase hadn’t held his arm out to stop him. 

“Wait a minute.”

“What? Why?”

“Oh, just watch,” Chase said lightly. “If what I think is going to happen actually happens, you’ll want to be a good distance away. And it’ll be good.”

Jack frowned, turning to look back at Harriet. Only for his eyes to widen and jaw to drop as she launched herself at Ashley.

Harriet got the first punch in easily. A good, straight shot to the jaw. Chase winced in sympathy; he knew that hurt. They tumbled to the floor, the students around them rearing back with whoops and gasps.

“I gotta—“

“No, you don’t,” Chase cut him off sharply, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and yanking him back before he could run forward at full-tilt. “Trust me, you don’t want in the middle of a cat fight.”

A gasp to his left turned Chase’s head. His heart sank. Nova had arrived, watching the scene in horror. 

“Harriet—!”

Chase grabbed for her, seizing the back of her hoodie, but with a powerful jerk, she wrenched free. Luckily for him, Dashi was right there. He puller her against him by the arm, holding her in place. 

“L-let me g… Go!”

“Can’t do,” Dashi told her, arms locked over her chest. “You’ll get yourself torn apart. Harriet can hold her own.”

Chase realized Dashi was right. Harriet’s legs were on either side of Ashley’s waist, completely whaling on her. It wasn’t long before one of the campus cops were there, yanking her off by the arms, another hauling Ashley to her feet. Ashley clawed at the cop, howling, trying to launch back into the fight. But Harriet was done. Chest heaving, she spat blood onto the tiled floor, mouth worked up in a snarl.

Nova was crying, more confused and concerned than anything going by her expression. She clutched Dashi’s arms shakily. When the cop led Harriet by, they locked eyes. Ashely must’ve had sharp nails; long trails of blood dripped down Harriet’s forearms and she had a pretty nasty cut on her cheek. But she grinned regardless, holding out a galaxy notebook as she passed. Dashi, keeping one arm wrapped around Nova, reached out to accept it.

Harriet went past them into the office, head held high.

-oOo-

It was entirely unsurprising to Jack when Harriet was suspended for two weeks. It might’ve been only a week like Ashley’s (hers would’ve been only a few days if she hadn’t tried to claw the copy’s eyes out) but she’d initiated the encounter with little to no visible regret. And school administration apparently didn’t like it if you weren’t at least a little sorry.

Nova was an absolute wreck. When she found out why Harriet had started the fight in the first place, Dashi had to escort her to the counselor’s office where she remained for the next class period.

“It’s my fault,” she sobbed into Jack’s shoulder where he sat beside her on the counselor’s overstuffed plaid couch. Dashi, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, shook his head. 

“This isn’t your fault,” he insisted firmly. “You didn’t force Harriet to fight. That was her choice and hers alone. If you don’t want to blame her, blame Ashley; if she hadn’t stolen from you, she wouldn’t have a broken nose right now.”

Eventually the counselor called her mom who came to pick her up. She looked very much like Nova with high cheekbones and sharp eyes. Despite that, she greeted Jack with a warmth that immediately put him at ease. She led Nova out with an arm around her shoulders.

Jack wanted desperately to talk to Harriet about the whole thing. About the why. Why go to such extremes over a stolen notebook? But since being escorted from the school by her dad (a serious-looking mustached man with salt and pepper hair who walked several feet in front of her), he hadn’t heard from her. After asking around later that week, he realized… No one had heard from her. Not a call nor text, not an email nor notification. Her social media accounts went silent. Like the tether holding her to the world had been severed.

By Friday night, he was worried to the point that he stared at the ceiling for hours, trying to will himself to sleep. At 2 AM, he sat up with a sigh, trying to expel his anxiety to no avail. He gazed out of the window. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. Chase’s window. Illuminated by a soft golden glow.

He rolled out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and slipping his feet into tennis shoes. Checking the mirror, he raked his hands through his hair, trying to make it a bit more presentable, finally gathering it into a small ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, bits and pieces too short for such a style. But it did what it needed to do.

Pushing the window up slowly, he clambered out onto the slant of roof. He jammed a book in-between the window and the jam so he could get back in before climbing down the trellis. The night was cool but the promise of summer vacation in a couple of months loomed, a layer of warmth under the chill. He was secretly glad Chase was living in a one-story house; he knew his own roof and trellis but he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to climb a different house.

At Chase’s window, he could see him sitting in bed, a book in his hands. The white cat was in his lap, one of his hands stroking her head repeatedly. He tapped lightly on the pane of glass and Chase’s head shot up, eyes widening. Jack bit his lip, trying not to grin as he waved. Chase’s brow furrowed in concern as he set the book aside and clambered off the bed. Yin bounded away and into the cracked closet door, fluffy white tail vanishing from sight. He opened the window.

“Jack? Are you alright?”

“Not really,” he said as he climbed in through the window. “I’m—“

“Worried about Harriet?” Chase guessed, closing the window behind him. “I figured you would be.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond but paused for a moment. He’d never been in Chase’s room before. The bed was covered in a deep green duvet, the walls adorned with posters. He drank in the little details: the Black Panther poster, the top shelf of the bookshelf filled with medals and trophies from kung fu, the GameCube hooked up to the small TV on the dresser… Jack could’ve spent hours just going through Chase’s room, picking him apart. Even the games and books alone (Legend of Zelda and Stephen King) told him so much more about his boyfriend. 

Instead, he took a seat on Chase’s bed, accidentally upsetting the second cat. The black one scrambled out from under the blankets and away under the bed. He opened his mouth to apologize but Chase beat him to it. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he soothed, waving his hand. “Yin and Yang are both jumpy.”

“Yin and Yang?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. Chase smiled weakly with a shrug.

“Of course. In Chinese culture, Yin is feminine energy represented by the color white and Yang in masculine energy represented by the color black. It was too fitting to pass up.”

“I mean, fair enough… But yeah, I’m worried about Harriet. Why haven’t we heard from her?” Jack asked in a hush, legs crossed under him. “It’s not like her at all to not talk to us.” 

Chase sighed, sitting in his desk chair backwards. He crossed his arms on the back of it, resting his chin atop them.

“I’m almost certain her parents took her phone. As punishment for getting suspended. They’re likely not allowing her to use the family computer either.”

Jack frowned, leaning back against the wall. 

“For a full week? I think I’d go mad.”

“They’ll probably not allow it for the full suspension,” Chase intoned, brushing his hair back. Jack stared at him.

“How can you be sure?” He asked slowly. His eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like you know something you’re not telling me?”

Chase regarded him a moment. Jack’s jaw tightened. They had been together for, what? A week and a couple of days? And already, Chase was keeping secrets and hiding things from him.

He was about to get up and leave when Chase spoke.

“What do you know about Harriet’s home life?”

“What do _you_ know about Harriet’s home life?” Jack shot back, more confused than anything. Chase shook his head.

“I only know what I’ve theorized from her behaviors, actions, and words. I could be wrong. Which is why I’ve told you nothing,” he said pointedly. Jack flushed.

“So what’re your theories?”

Chase sat up straighter.

“Harriet has an anxiety disorder.”

“Anxiety disorder?” Jack repeated, frowning. Chase nodded.

“It worsens her already poor body image and impacts her eating habits.”

“Oh, wait, you mean like… Like the way she always drinks diet sodas?”

“And habitually checks the calorie content of every food item,” Chase confirmed as Jack’s eyes widened. “She wears baggy t-shirts and hoodies that she often plucks away from her body.”

“Her… Her mom likes to put her on diets.”

“Which confirms another theory of mine,” Chase sighed, rubbing his eyes. Jack inclined his head, leaning forward.

“Yeah?”

“It confirms that her parents are over-bearing and have high expectations. You think parents who have a specific image for their child would allow them to use any type of technology after a suspension?”

Jack fell back against the wall again, tilting his head back in thought. Chase was right, of course. Everything Harriet said about her parents, especially her mother, put Jack on edge. He could tell she loved them (she had no issue telling them about the good things that happened at home) but it wasn’t unusual for her to be upset about something her mother said to the evening before.

“… Do you think she has an eating disorder?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Chase said, raking his hand through his hair. “I just know anxiety manifests itself in all sorts of ways.”

“Still… It was a pretty good fight, wasn’t it?” Jack asked, a wide grin spreading across his face. Chase snorted.

“Yes, it was. She was a bit sloppy about it, but I can’t deny a good punch when I see it.”

Jack laughed, covering his mouth in an attempt to keep quiet. He cast a quick look at the door. Chase caught it and smirked.

“I’m fortunate my mother’s a deep sleeper.”

“That’s good to know… You know, I’ve gotta wonder… Why throw a punch over a notebook? I mean, it’s not really Harriet’s style.”

“Oh, Jack, are you really that blind?” Chase groaned, leaning forward to brush Jack’s hair out of his face. He rolled his eyes at the blank look he received. “She likes Nova. A lot.”

“Oh…” Jack said slowly. He frowned, turning over Nova and Harriet’s interactions in his head. The time they spent together, the sideways glances, the way they passed notebooks to one another, writing together… Then he gasped. “Oh!”

Chase snorted.

“You see it, don’t you? Took you long enough.”

Then he ducked, laughing as Jack threw his own pillow at his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Toshiro is basically using a casual way of apologizing when he says "Gomen-ne"  
** André just told Jack he's fucked  
*** "Such is love"  
**** "Yeah, it might work" (sarcasm obviously)
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! We're entering the endgame for this fic. Only a couple more chapters!  
Evermore should be updating in a week or so. Stay tuned!  
-P3ac3fulFor3st

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all thoughts are appreciated :D
> 
> Wild will be updating every other week but stay tuned; I'll be posting another story next weekend ^.^
> 
> Glad to be back!
> 
> -P3ac3fulFor3st


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